Tales of the Southern Air Temple
by DJNS
Summary: AU. Prequel to Tales of Republic City.
1. Discoveries

**A/N - Welp, after a long, long, long hiatus from ATLA fic I am back. Honestly, this story has been rolling around in my head for a while now (years really) and I only just recently buckled down enough to write it.**

**Simply put, this is the prequel to my story Tales of Republic City. It follows Aang and Katara from newlyweds right up until Tenzin's conception, a span of about 11 years give or take. It does not follow canon but instead follows the universe I created in ToRC which means that a lot of stuff will be switched around from LoK. This story will be written in the same style and will flow into ToRC as if it had always been a part of it. I want it to be a seamless transition from one story to the next. That being said, however, you absolutely _do not_ have to read ToRC before reading this.**

**Anyway, here we go and to anyone still reading my work in 2019 I hope you enjoy. It's good to be back.**

* * *

**Discoveries**

Aang was unceremoniously awakened to Momo's frenetic chittering directly in his ear. With a heavy grunt, he shooed the neurotic lemur away and simultaneously snuggled closer to his wife, burrowing his face deeper into her tangled mane of hair. His plan was to fall back to sleep immediately. His plan, unfortunately, was doomed to failure. Momo, filled with righteous indignation, refused to be deterred. He tapped his tiny paws against his master's head and cheeks in emphatic protest.

"Ugh! Go away, Momo!" Aang growled, "It's too early for this!"

It was true. Even the _sun_ had yet to present itself fully over the horizon. The hazy hue of dawn was only now beginning to peek over the craggy mountain tops and spill through his open window. For the most part, the interior of his bedroom was still relatively cloaked in murky darkness.

Still, despite his grumpy protest, there _were_ parts of Aang that were definitely beginning to awaken. Now that he was beginning to regain some cognizance of his surroundings, it was impossible to ignore the warmth of Katara's nude body pressed into the crook of his own or the softness of her breast beneath his hand. He rolled his hips lightly against her backside in unconscious, unfurling desire. Katara emitted a lethargic snuffle at the sensation, eyes still closed, her lips curving in a drowsy smile.

"But not too early for _that _apparently," she reasoned aloud in a sleep roughened tone.

Aang laughed softly into her hair, concealing his answering blush as he did so. "Well, technically we _are_ still newlyweds, so…" He started to nudge her onto her back when the obvious intention of kissing her thoroughly when Momo abruptly scampered onto his shoulder and began knocking against him and chittering anew.

"Gah!" Aang cried, gently swatting him away with an annoyed scowl, "What's gotten into you today?"

Clearly affronted with Aang for some yet as unknown reason, Momo scuttled onto Katara's torso in a bid for refuge and loving cuddles which she gladly obliged. The action prompted Aang's disgruntled grumble which in turn prompted _Katara_ to stifle her resounding laugh against his shoulder. "Aww, Aang, have a heart. I think that Momo has finally had his fill of our shenanigans."

"_Our_ shenanigans?" he balked. He directed his insulted grimace towards the lemur, who was now curled atop of Katara demurely, his luminous green eyes wide with innocence. "Really? We're the ones pulling shenanigans? I'm not the one who woke _him_ up at the crack of dawn!"

"I think he's hungry, Aang," Katara reasoned mildly as she reached out to give the lemur's ears an affectionate scratch, "He didn't eat last night, remember? You know we throw off his feeding schedule when we laze around in bed all night and day."

"But it's barely dawn," Aang protested with a pout, "Besides, I _like_ lazing around in bed…"

They had been married for two months, two days and approximately six hours. Sixty two delightful, exhilarating, romantic days filled with marital bliss and the euphoria that magnificent truth brought with it was nowhere near fading. Aang and Katara were still very early in the honeymoon stage of their marriage despite having actually been in a relationship with one another for the better part of six years. Marriage, however, had brought an entirely new dynamic to that relationship.

No longer were they sidled with constant traveling companions or forced to sleep in different beds at night. They were free from Sokka's inherent grumbling if they dared to share a tent while camping out. Gone was the awkwardness that was often caused by those romantically interested in either Aang or Katara due to what the outside world viewed as the "ambiguous" nature of their relationship. Now everyone in the world knew for certain that the Avatar belonged irrevocably to Katara of the Southern Water Tribe and that was that.

Consequently, the two found themselves so wrapped up in one another soon after making their vows that very little outside of their idealistic cocoon mattered or even registered. But while Aang and Katara had spend a good portion of their time as newlyweds exploring the sacred grounds of the Southern Air Temple, frolicking in the pristine, mountain streams that encircled the temple's parameter and generally occupying themselves with "getting to know" one another better in the most carnal sense of the phrase, it hadn't been all play and no work for them by any means. The hundred year war might have ended but the world was still a long way off from being completely healed.

Aang's constant duties as Avatar and protector of the three remaining nations could not be put on hold, even for a new marriage. As a result, he and Katara often spent weeks away from the temple, entangled in settling one crisis after another in various parts of the world. During those sometimes seemingly endless stretches of political unrest and dissonance, the young couple weren't afforded much time for romance. They were much too busy serving as mediators, quelling the occasional insurrections between Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom factions and helping to rebuild the tattered remains of the countless townships and villages that had been left decimated in the war. Someone was always in need of Aang's help and Aang would always make himself available to answer the call. It was simply due to his duty as the Avatar either but his very nature as a person.

When he and Katara were finally able to carve out the time in order to return to the temple they couldn't get back to their secluded haven fast enough, spurred on by their all-encompassing and ever present need to be alone together. Once there, the young lovers would retreat to their own private world again which often involved them being confined to their bedroom for hours on end. It was little wonder that Momo (and quite possibly Appa too) were beginning to feel a bit neglected by the two.

Recognizing his lack of attentiveness and lulled into a measure of contrition because of it, Aang leveled Momo with a doleful look and rolled, albeit reluctantly, from the bed. "Okay, okay," he groused, "You win. But in my defense, I would have fed you…_eventually_."

Momo took the last of that halfhearted and somewhat dubious reassurance mostly in stride, seemingly satisfied with Aang's willingness to rise and dress. He chittered happily as Aang, after yawning and stretching and flexing away his morning muscle stiffness, pulled on his trousers. Katara, on the other hand, watched him dress with a rueful sigh before finally flipping back the covers to follow his lead.

"I guess I can help you," she volunteered, prompting Aang's surprised glance. He was sure that she would want to stay in bed a while longer and his expression said as much. Katara shrugged. "I might as well. There's no point staying here if you're not with me. Besides, I'm sure Appa is hungry too."

As they sluggishly went through the motions of their morning routine together, neither Aang nor Katara bothered with overdressing. With only the two of them occupying the temple grounds, save for a giant sky bison and an erratic rabbit-lemur, the need for propriety seemed a moot point. Aang spent most of his days shirtless and shoeless and sometimes in absolutely nothing at all while Katara was content to wrap herself up in one of Aang's discarded robes and little else. She did so presently, scooping up one brightly colored garment from the piles of clothing littering their bedroom floor before shrugging into it with practiced ease. Aang watched her actions with a faint, satisfied smile.

"What?" she asked self-consciously when she became aware of his avid perusal.

"Nothing," he replied with a widening smile, "I just like the way you look in my clothes. Then again, I like the way you look _out_ of them too."

Katara ducked her head, her answering blush hidden behind a curtain of dark, unruly hair. "Ugh. Don't you ever think about anything else, airbender?"

"Not in the last year I haven't."

She favored him with an impish grin following that candid reply. "Yeah. Me neither."

Aang started to close the distance between them with the full intention of kissing her senseless because there was no way he could _not_ kiss her after that admission but Momo suddenly leapt between them with a low hiss of warning. Aang stopped short, his mouth agape over the lemur's almost feral response. It was clear that Momo was not going to have his breakfast delayed any longer. He was prepared to do bodily harm if need be.

"Okay, okay," Aang laughed, throwing up his hands in a gesture of surrender, "Take it down a notch! I'm going. You're so fussy lately!"

They made their way down into the courtyard hand in hand with an impatient Momo scampering at their heels. It was clear upon their arrival that Appa too had been growing restless because he released a grateful bellow when he caught sight of them. Both Aang and Katara converged on his flanks to greet him with morning nuzzles.

"Good grief. What is with you two?" Aang grunted into Appa's fur affectionately, "I didn't eat dinner last night either and you don't see _me_ falling apart."

Appa bellowed softly again. If it had been possible for a sky bison to give side-eye, Appa's would have clearly stated, "Well, I didn't have _the distractions _you did…"

Duly chastened by his bison's evident annoyance with him, Aang dutifully began gathering together food for Appa and Momo as well as for himself and Katara. Meanwhile, Katara busied herself with grooming both animals, who had unfortunately been thoroughly ignored in the two days since she and Aang had made their most recent return to the temple. As they went about their morning tasks, the young couple engaged in some idle chitchat and sporadic water fights, their progress slowed by those occasional bouts of flirtatious horseplay.

By the time Appa and Momo were finally diving into their breakfast with rumbling purrs of gratitude, Aang and Katara were once again exchanging nibbling kisses and hushed giggles in between feeding one another bites of fruit. Invariably, kissing led to more amorous pursuits and before long the young lovers were stumbling off together towards the nearby bison stables, leaving behind a woebegone Appa and Momo in their avid pursuit of morning lovemaking.

An hour later, they lay curled together in one of the empty stalls, cushioned by a bed of fragrant hay and languidly contemplating how they should spend the remainder of their day. Katara spooned against Aang, limp and exhausted, her limbs hopelessly tangled with his, her cheek pillowed against his chest. She smiled in sated contentment as the steady cadence of his heartbeat drummed rhythmically in her ear. If she could have frozen them together in that moment for all eternity Katara would have gladly done so because, right then, it all felt so painfully perfect.

"Are you happy, Aang?" she found herself asking after an moment of indolent silence had passed between them.

His satisfied chuckle rumbled against her cheek. "So happy." He popped open a single eye to peer down at her. "Are you?"

"This is the happiest I've ever been in my entire life," she confessed with a contented sigh.

The corners of Aang's mouth turned up in an impudent smile. "And I did that, huh?"

Katara rolled her eyes with a good-natured grunt. "Maybe you had a little to do with that," she teased.

"But just a little bit, right?"

"Teeny tiny. Miniscule even." She ruined the claim a split second later when she smiled up at him with adoring, blue eyes. "I can't believe you're actually my husband now," she sighed in wonderment.

Aang reached forward to brush a tendril of hair from her cheek, his expression equally adoring as he looked at her. "And I can't believe that you're my wife," he murmured, "I meant what I said before, Katara. You really _do_ make me happy. I didn't know it was possible to be this happy."

"I'm glad," Katara said, favoring him with a loving smile, "I was worried about you."

"Worried about me? Why?"

"Because you were so sad when we first came. I know that being here is painful for you, Aang."

The reminder provoked a shuttered grimace from Aang. He well remembered the conflicting emotions he had felt upon their arrival at the Southern Air Temple more than two months prior. At first, when he had suggested to Katara shortly before their wedding ceremony that they spend their honeymoon at the temple he had been filled with unrestrained excitement at the prospect. The thought of returning to his cultural roots with Katara as his new bride had brought with it a wave of nostalgia and sentiment. He had been eager to share his history with her in a way he hadn't before. After all, what could be better than spending time with his new wife in the place that had been his boyhood home and that also held so many treasured memories for him?

But Aang hadn't anticipated the stark reality of being on the temple grounds again and truly absorbing the enormity of what had taken place there over 100 years ago. Mistakenly, he'd believed that he had come to terms with the loss of his nation before the war ended. Years prior he had given up his long secret hope that he would someday find other airbenders who might have survived the genocide. He wasn't under any illusions that the air temples would ever become the places of spiritual enlightenment and freedom that they had been in the past. He was sure that he had made his peace with the reality that the air nomads would never become a great nation again, at least not in his lifetime. He was fully convinced that he had accepted those realties and moved on from them.

When he proposed returning there to Katara he hadn't imagined that he would still grapple with any of those old feelings and disappointments. After all, those had been the naïve musings of a 12 year old boy. He was nineteen years old now, world weary, a fully realized Avatar and a husband. He no longer clung to the futility of those foolish notions. He no longer rested any hope in them…or so he thought. And he had been wrong. Very wrong.

Aang hadn't prepared himself for the aching emptiness he would initially feel upon returning to the long vacant temple. He hadn't been prepared for how much he would miss his people or how acute that loss would feel to him even after so many years… While in many ways his boyhood home didn't fit the picture of abandonment any longer due to its distinct lack of dilapidation, strangely well-kept grounds, crystal clear streams and blooming wild flowers and greenery, the ghosts of his extinct race continued to echo eerily throughout the deserted halls.

Rather than being buoyed by the memories of Gyatso and airball in the courtyard and the unparalleled freedom of gliding through the open skies on twirling currents of air, Aang had felt bereft and alone, even more so than he had when he first learned the grim truth that he was the last living airbender. The night of their arrival, rather than making wild, unrestrained love to his new wife as had been his original plan, Aang had curled himself into her comforting embrace and had wept like a child instead. He had spent much of their first day there moody and withdrawn until Katara, at last, reminded him of all the reasons he had to smile. He had been determined not to focus on those negative emotions ever since. Still, it hadn't been the most auspicious start to their honeymoon.

The recollection of that miserable night caused Aang to cringe inwardly. He averted his eyes from Katara with a mortified frown. "I'm so sorry about that, Katara. That's not how I wanted our first night as husband and wife to go. I never meant to fall apart on you like that."

Katara cupped his cheek, silently cajoling him to meet her eyes once more. "Why are you apologizing, Aang?" she whispered, "I understood. It's okay to miss your people."

"But I don't want to focus on the things I've lost," he whispered back, "Not when I've gained so much and I have so much to be thankful for. I don't have any right to feel sorry for myself."

"Aang, that's not true. You lost your _entire_ race. You have more right than anyone…"

"Actually, I don't," he protested softly, "Because the truth is, if I hadn't lost my people then I would have never found you and I…I can't be sorry for that. I love you, Katara. I love you more than anything."

A lump of emotion formed in Katara's throat at his earnest reply. As a result, her words were hoarse with unshed tears when she whispered back, "I love you too, Aang. I always will."

Aang didn't realize that they both had fallen asleep soon after that until he was abruptly jostled into wakefulness by Appa's agitated baying. As he gradually transitioned from sleepy confusion to alertness, Aang also became aware of the sound of unfamiliar voices reverberating from the courtyard as well. They weren't shouting or threatening at all. Rather, they had an almost gentle, soothing quality in their tone. Still, there was no denying that soothing or not, whoever was speaking didn't belong there.

Alarmed, Aang swung upright, his sudden shift in position startling Katara awake as well. "Hmm…what's wrong?" she mumbled sleepily.

He was already reaching for his trousers when he answered, "Something's up with Appa. I think someone's here."

That statement was enough to snap Katara wide awake and she was quickly reaching for her own clothing as well. It wasn't often that people visited the air temple. In fact, outside of Aang, herself, their immediate family and the firebenders who had decimated its residents more than 100 years prior, no one ever really came there. Even the messages Aang received pertaining to his Avatar duties had been received by messenger hawk. That was mainly because the temple was situated so remotely in the mountains that journeying there on foot was often an arduous and perilous trek. If one didn't possess a sky bison (and besides Aang no one else in the world did), own a formidable Fire Nation tank or pride themselves as a skilled earthbender, they would essentially be risking life and limb to travel there…which made the prospect of unexpected visitors seem a bit strange and…unsettling.

Instantly on alert and tensed for battle, Aang and Katara quietly crept from the stables and stealthily made their way back towards the courtyard, covertly scooping up staff and waterskins along the way. As they did so, the muffled voices they had heard earlier began to grow more distinct. Aang turned to Katara and pressed his index finger to his lips in a warning for silence as they both strained to hear the words being spoken.

_"…calm down, my friend. We would never hurt such a magnificent beast!"_

_"…in all my days I never thought I would see this beautiful animal in person!"_

_"…try not to crowd him so. Give him a chance to come to you."_

_"…look at his markings. They're exactly like the tattoos the monks had!"_

_"…this is the Avatar's bison. I'm sure he and his new wife must be here."_

At that point, Aang had heard enough and stepped out into the open to reveal himself. His intent was to demand how these strangers had come to be there and what they wanted but the words immediately lodged in his throat as he rounded the corner. He immediately stopped short, astonished by what he found.

He was greeted by the sight of a small crowd of people gathered around Appa, ranging a span of ages from little child and middle-aged man. They were all dressed in brightly colored ceremonial robes and tunics with hues of orange, yellow and reds, their heads cleanly shaven, their faces bright with reverential awe and genial smiles. Some of the children were reaching out tentatively to run their smalls hands through Appa's fur with hushed "oohs" and "ahhs" while the adults spoke to the skittish bison in lulling, kind tones. To Aang's stunned disbelief, Appa actually began to calm under their ministrations, evidently willing to extend his trust to them without further merit. Aang was only vaguely aware of Katara drawing in an astonished gasp behind him, left as speechless by the sight as he was.

In that split second, he didn't see a group of strangers but was instead greeted with a vision of his lost people. Aang was suddenly catapulted back in time to a bygone era that had heretofore only existed in his memories. He saw the courtyard once again filled with monks deep in meditation, heard the laughter echoing throughout the cloudless skies as children played on streams of wind overhead. For one breathtaking, amazing, incredible instant, he was home again…and it was glorious.

But then it was gone, fizzling into nothing like an extinguished candlewick.

These weren't his people. They might have been reminiscent of his long dead race due to their dress and shaved heads and gentle countenances but their distinct lack of airbender markings made it evident that they were _not_ his people. Moreover, it was the glaring lack of bending spirit, the presence of being that all of Aang's race had exuded, that unmasked them.

Sadly, they weren't the descendants of some secret pocket of air nomads who had managed to escape Firelord Sozin's murderous wrath following the initial raids of the air temples. Although, that had been Aang's most immediate hope when he first saw them. But he easily acknowledged the absurdity in that hope. More likely they were a group of ordinary people, a community that clearly held an interest in emulating the lost air nomad culture. It was also equally clear to Aang that they possessed no real understanding of it. In essence, it was Yu Dao all over again.

Given that mounting evidence, there was no question that they didn't belong there. Sadly, just as quickly as excitement and hope had bloomed in Aang's heart, it died an equally swift and definitive death. It was that harsh return to reality that finally prompted him to speak and make his presence known.

"Who are you people?"

The question was little more than a hoarsened whisper and yet, despite his gruff tone, almost two dozen pairs of eyes swung around in his direction simultaneously. In that moment, it was as if the entire congregation of people had forgotten to breathe. They stared at Aang in rapt fascination and something else, something akin to…adulation. He and Katara stared right back, albeit self-consciously as they were both acutely aware of their half-dressed, rumpled state and the remnants of hay clinging to their clothing. But they might have well been bedecked in the most splendid finery imaginable if the crowd's reaction to their appearance was any indication.

No one spoke a word or even uttered a single sound for at least three full seconds though it felt like eons of time had passed in the interim. The resounding silence prompted Aang to pose his question again, this time with more forcefulness. Only then did a flurry of murmured activity break out among the small group.

Finally, a man, who looked to be in his late thirties or early forties, stumbled forth from the group, ushered forward unanimously by the throng. Based on his dress, it was easy to assume that he held some position of prominence amongst them, most particularly since they had obviously chosen him to serve as their spokesman. Like his comrades, his expression was filled with admiration, his brown eyes gentle and kind as he bowed reverentially before Aang.

"Avatar Aang, it is an honor to finally meet you. My name is Jampa," he explained, paused to gesture to the thunderstruck crowd standing behind him, "and these are the people of my village. We are your humble servants." As if lending their silent agreement to that declaration, the multitude of people behind him bowed to Aang in unison. "Welcome home."

Largely ignoring that modest offer of servitude as well as the welcome, however, Aang twirled his staff into a defensive stance and demanded with a gathering scowl, "Who are you? What are you doing here? Why are you dressed as you are?"

"We are the keepers of this temple. We mean you no harm, Avatar."

Aang drew himself upright with an indignant huff of breath following that statement. He bristled at the idea that any outsider should dare lay claim to a sacred Air Nation temple. "Excuse me? And who gave you that authority?"

Easily detecting the outrage in the Avatar's stiff tone, Jampa quickly attempted to diffuse the situation before the tension could escalate. "I meant no offense to you, Avatar Aang," he said in a mild tone, "When I said we are the 'keepers' of this temple, I meant only that we have dedicated ourselves to the task of restoring this place to its former glory. We have nothing but your best interests at heart."

Disarmed by his sincere tone, Aang gradually lowered his staff. Unfortunately, however, the man's explanation only confused him further. "I'm sorry…what are you talking about? You're dedicated to what?"

"Please allow me to explain…" Jampa entreated, "Seven years ago, when the world learned that the Avatar had returned, my people knew that we could not allow this place to lay desolate any longer. We needed to restore it, if not to honor the fallen air nomads then certainly out of deference for you…so that you could someday return to your home and airbenders would once again have a place to flourish."

Aang turned aside with a pained grimace following the man's candid reply, at a loss as to how he should feel or what he should say. Jampa seemed to sense the conflict within him. After a brief pause, he continued in his explanation, allowing Aang the time he needed to collect his thoughts.

"Ever since you returned we have made regular trips up this mountain to restore the temple," he went on, "Over the last six years we have cleared away the overgrowth, restored the gardens, buried the dead and made the repairs that we could. We have made it our life's work to make this temple what it once was. Surely you must have noticed…"

Aang had noticed. In fact, since the beginning of their honeymoon he and Katara had often discussed how well kept the temple seemed in spite of spending so many years desolated and empty. Truthfully, until recent weeks, Aang had simply chalked up the changes to the passage of time but hadn't really bothered to investigate further. After all, he had only paid sporadic visits to the temple in the years since the war ended and he never tended to stay for very long. As the years passed his visits became even more infrequent. Only recently had Aang begun to note the differences and wonder about them. It had never occurred to him that there might be someone, or in this case, some _people_ behind them. Now that he knew the truth, however, Aang was finding it difficult to digest.

"I don't understand," he uttered with a bewildered shake of his head, "Why?"

"Because your people deserved better."

An acrid lump of emotion formed in Aang's throat at his reply. "But how did you even get here? Are there benders among you?"

Jampa shook his head sadly. "No. We have no benders. Not anymore."

At that point Katara, who had been sharing Aang's same internal struggle with these surprising revelations, finally found her voice. "But how did you make it up the mountain otherwise?" she burst out, "The journey had to be treacherous for you!"

"It can be," Jampa confirmed, "Sometimes it takes us as long as 8 days to make the journey here but we have done it many times now and have become quite skilled. Besides that, it is a worthwhile cause…an honorable one."

"But where did you even come from?" Aang wanted to know.

"My people live in the valley at the base of these mountains," he continued, "We have been there for nearly 100 years. After Sozin decimated the air temples and wiped out the air nomads many became afraid, terrified that they would become next in line for the Fire Nation's genocide.

"My grandfather took his family and fled from his township in the Earth kingdom to come here. This island, these mountains are the only home I've ever known. As a boy I was taught how sacred these mountains were, about the temple located on its highest peak and about the people who had once resided here."

"And who taught you?" Aang wondered aloud tremulously.

"My father taught me and my grandfather taught him."

Katara peered at him curiously. "So that's why you came here to restore the temple…because of the respect you have for Aang's people?"

"That is but one reason," Jampa told her, "We owe the Air Nation a debt of gratitude. This place had served as a haven for many. After the Fire Nation had finished their wanton destruction, there weren't many places for people to run. There were some who sought refuge in Ba Sing Se. Some who hoped to find shelter in the North Pole with the Northern Watertribe but, _we_ came here and we have been protected ever since."

As she became aware of the fine trembling that was beginning to overtake Aang's body, Katara surreptitiously reached out to grab hold of his hand and gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze, sensing without a word that he needed some comfort right then. "So then you're Earth Kingdom refugees," she surmised softly.

"And Fire Nation too," a woman interjected softly from behind Jampa. She bowed to Aang and Katara deferentially when the young couple bounced their startled gazes in her direction. "Who are you?" they asked her in unison.

"This is Jinpa," Jampa explained, "She is my wife. I could have never conceived this project for the temple without her encouragement and support."

Aang regarded Jinpa speculatively, warily. "And you're Fire Nation?"

Jinpa smiled and inclined her head in a small nod. "That is my lineage…yes but our village is comprised of _all_ nations. Anyone who wished to escape Sozin's tyranny was welcome among us. My grandfather happened to be one of those people. There were many in the Fire Nation who opposed Sozin's military strategy and but those who did so publicly were met with swift and brutal retribution. My grandfather wanted was peace. He was sickened by the genocide and he deeply mourned what became of your people."

Her earnest reply wrung a shuddering breath of consternation from Aang. "You said that your village was comprised of all nations," he pressed, his words edged with desperation, "Does that include the air nomads as well?"

The manner in which her eyes skittered away following his question filled Aang with conflicting feelings of hope and dread. He was desperate to know the answer and, at the same time, he didn't want to hear it at all. "There was a very small handful of monks who survived the initial attacks," she said after a tense beat of silence, "They were only children really. They hadn't even earned their tattoos yet…"

When she trailed off, obviously becoming too overwrought with emotion to continue the account her husband resumed the narrative in her place. "They had hidden in the trees and managed to evade the Fire Nation's destruction," he said, "My people took them in, gave them refuge and hid them from the Firelord so that they wouldn't be killed along with the others."

"Unfortunately, most left our village to search for other surviving airbenders," his wife interrupted softly, "They never returned to us."

Aang recoiled from the account, not wanting to believe it but at the same time knowing in his heart that they spoke the truth. Really, they were doing little more than lending veracity to what he had imagined for himself all of these years. Still, it was difficult to quash his reflexive need to deny, avoid and evade.

"How could you possibly know this? You weren't even born when Firelord Sozin began the war! How can I believe that any of this is true?"

"My grandfather told me the story," Jinpa replied, "They found five boys with no home and no people and they took them in and protected them."

"But they left in spite of that, didn't they?" Aang observed in an almost accusing tone.

"Because they were determined to find others who might have survived the raids like they did."

Katara squeezed Aang's hand once again when she felt him wilt against her. "You said that 'most' left your village," she quickly discerned, "Does that mean that there were some who stayed behind? Are…are there living airbenders among you?"

"No," Jampa answered sorrowfully, "The Avatar is, indeed, the last airbender. There was only one who stayed behind in our village but he died a long time ago."

At that point, Aang's limbs would no longer support him and he dropped to his knees, doubled over with the crippling, helpless grief that suddenly burned in his chest. It almost felt as if he were losing his people all over again. He was only vaguely aware of Katara wrapping her arms around his shoulders and murmuring sweet words of comfort against his cheek. He didn't even know he was crying until he tasted the salt of his tears at the corners of his mouth.

Aang felt as if he were housed inside a vacuum and the only thing he could process beyond the stiff rushing in his ears were the words; _The Avatar is, indeed, the last airbender. _He had _known_ that and yet, for those few minutes, he had let himself hope otherwise. Now, once again, he found himself struggling with accepting that morbid truth.

"Is that why you came here?" Aang wheezed in a broken sob, "To tell me things that I already knew? To make me hope for something that I could never have?"

"It was never my intention to upset you, Avatar Aang," Jampa uttered sincerely, "The last thing any of us wanted was for you to be unhappy. Your happiness is our greatest priority."

"Just go," Aang ordered him woodenly. He flicked a fleeting glance around at the mostly silent and dumbfounded crowd. "All of you. Leave here! And don't come back. I don't want to see you again!"

"Aang!" Katara gasped. He whipped a startled look towards her when he detected the mild censure in her tone. "You don't mean that. What happened to the air nomads isn't their fault."

"I know it isn't. But they got to live while my people died and I don't want them here, Katara."

Afterwards, Aang resolutely wiped away his tears and rose unsteadily to his feet before definitively turning his back on them all. He did his utmost to blot their stricken faces from his mind as he walked away and left Katara to make mortified apologies on his behalf. Though he made quite a production of being preoccupied with Appa and Momo, Aang was painfully aware of every word being spoken, every regret being uttered, every mournful stare cast in his direction as the villagers took their leave one by one and began their hazardous descent down the mountain face. When the last of the footfalls finally died away Aang found himself tensing in anticipation of Katara's reprimand.

Sensing that she was about to lay into him and in no mood to deal with it, Aang cut her off before she could even begin her lecture. "I don't want to talk about it," he announced brusquely.

Katara plunked her hands onto her hips in challenge. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Yes, I do. And I don't want to hear it."

"Well, maybe you _need_ to hear it," she countered quietly, "Sweetie, I get why you're upset but-,"

"—I said I don't want to talk about it!" he burst out sharply, only to soften his tone a millisecond later when Katara's brows snapped together in a warning scowl. "Please, Katara. Just drop it."

"Aang, you have to know you're not being fair to them," she reasoned in a mild tone.

"Why should I be fair? They were trespassing! I didn't invite them here!"

"Trespassing?" Katara snorted dubiously, "Really, Aang? Those people have been coming here for _years_ to rebuild this temple! You've seen the results with your own eyes! The least you can do is show a little gratitude!"

"I didn't ask them to come here, Katara!" he fired back defensively.

"They did it for you!"

"So what? Now I owe them?"

Katara hunched her shoulders forward in defeat, the fight abruptly draining out of her. "Aang, this isn't you," she uttered, "You can't punish them because they lived and the air nomads didn't."

Aang didn't readily respond to the charge and that was mostly because he had no real defense against it. He couldn't deny the veracity of Katara's words because the accusation was true. He _did_ blame them for living when his people had not. It galled him to know that this mountain had become a haven to Jampa and Jinpa's people only because his people had already been exterminated. Those villagers had been able to live because his people had died. How could he not blame them? How could he not be angry about that? And Katara's seeming inability to understand that fact made him inexplicably angry with _her_ as well.

That was an altogether foreign emotion for Aang and, suddenly, he just needed to get out of there. "I'm going flying for a while," he announced abruptly, stooping to retrieve his glider, "I shouldn't be too long."

Katara gaped at him in dismay. "But we haven't finished talking yet!" she cried, "You can't just leave when we're in the middle of a discussion, Aang!"

"Well, maybe I don't want to have a discussion."

"That's not how it works, okay. We're married now. You can't just run away because you don't like what you hear. We have to settle this."

"It's settled," he replied, snapping open his glider, "I don't have anything else to say about it, Katara." He looked away when he saw hurt and disappointment swirling in the blue depths of her eyes. "I'll be back before nightfall," he promised, not bothering to wait for her reply before he bent out a jet of air and took to the skies.

Aang hadn't been gone a full five minutes before he was regretting his decision to take off. He could still see Katara's stricken expression in his mind's eye and it filled him with corrosive guilt. He _hated_ hurting her but he also couldn't fathom how he could possibly verbalize the rage and confusion boiling inside of him right then. Perhaps it wasn't reasonable or fair or even warranted but Aang _needed_ someone to blame. The Fire Nation soldiers who had been personally responsible for all of the deaths of the temple monks had been long dead themselves. But the people who had reaped the benefits from those countless deaths? They still lived…and they prospered.

Jampa and his people had formed a community on the very lands that had sealed the Air Nation's fate. Aang couldn't stop himself from asking, _Why?_ Why had they gotten to live when his people had not? Even those who had survived the initial raids seemed to eventually meet with the same fate as their fallen comrades before them. And, if they hadn't, they would have been forced to live out the remainder of their existence denying the very essence of who they were. That would have been tantamount to spiritual death. It would have been a bleak existence either way. And perhaps that was the hardest truth for Aang to accept, the possibility that maybe his people had always been doomed from the start…

It was a gloomy prospect and one that made him even angrier when he thought about it. Little wonder that he was so desperate for someone to blame. Still, it wasn't as if Jampa's people had wished for the Air Nation genocide. They had been sickened by Sozin's actions right along with the rest of the world. They had sought out the temple in the hopes of attaining freedom and peace. Weren't those concepts the very foundation on which the air temples had been built? Could he really fault those villagers for seeking a better life or for wanting to form a connection to his extinct race because of it?

The more time Aang spent soaring amongst the clouds, the clearer his thoughts became. His anger lessened and was replaced with aching sadness instead. He knew he wasn't being fair to Katara or to Jampa and his people either. He couldn't punish them for surviving when his people hadn't, just like he couldn't punish himself. In the end, Aang knew nothing productive would come from bitterness over the past and he would only find himself stuck there and unable to enjoy his present.

Calmed by that realization and left in a much better head space to have an actual conversation about his feelings, Aang started to turn his glider on a course for home when he suddenly caught sight of Appa flying in the distance just ahead of him and abruptly changed course to meet him. He smiled to himself, not at all surprised that Katara had been unwilling to let him stew alone in his personal turmoil for too long. His wife was a stubborn soul and he loved fervently for it.

He was mentally making a list of all the ways he planned to make up for his jerkish behavior when he gradually realized that the bison flying ahead of him wasn't _Appa_ after all. Aang drew in a sharp, astonished gasp, his glider bouncing precariously midair with the break in his concentration. His heart suddenly began to knock against his ribs with accelerated force, his limbs started to shake, so violently in fact that he even feared for his ability to keep the glider airborne. Somehow, he managed to do so by sheer will and, after a few minutes of course correction maneuvers, he brought himself up close against the bison's flank.

At first, the giant beast didn't acknowledge his presence at all, which afforded Aang with an opportunity to study him closely. He guided his glider smoothly around the animal's massive girth, taking careful note of every detail. Although the mysterious bison shared similar markings and builds with Appa, there was a subtle difference in their coloring and just the tiniest variation in snout shape. Were it not for those subtle differences, however, it might have taken Aang longer to realize the bison wasn't Appa.

Eventually, Aang's continuous darting grew tiresome for the bison and he released a low bellow of annoyance. Aang laughed. "I just want to know where you come from, boy. Are there others like you?"

Far from reacting skittishly to Aang's presence, the animal didn't seem particularly alarmed to have some heretofore unknown airbender flying along side him. It was as if the action were completely natural to him. In another lifetime, Aang supposed, it had been. But that had been 100 years ago and Aang was sure that no sky bison had seen another airbender in all that time.

Still, it seemed clear to him that the bison knew him, at least on some instinctive level, and seemed to trust him implicitly…almost in the same manner that Appa had trusted Jampa's people. That astounding realization was still beating around in Aang's mind when the bison inclined his massive head towards him in an almost welcoming nod before he bellowed and abruptly picked up speed, obviously indicating that Aang should follow him.

So, he did. Over the towering treetops, past the wide river valleys and higher and higher into the mountain where the air would have been much too thin for any other human to survive for long. But to an airbender…it was like returning home.

It seemed to Aang that they flew for hours in order to reach their destination and yet, when they did, he was wholly unprepared for what he discovered. For the second time that day, in the span of only a few hours, Aang found himself at a loss for words. There, hidden away in a large grotto, concealed by craggy cliffsides and sparse greenery was an entire community of sky bison and flying, ring-tailed lemurs. They littered the expanse of the clear, blue sky above, filling the afternoon air with the sounds of their chittering and low, mournful bellows.

Aang landed on a rocky platform high above the valley and stumbled forward at the sight, simply overcome as he took it all in with shaky, grateful breaths. It was only in that stunning moment that Aang realized that Jampa had been wrong. He _wasn't_ the last airbender after all. The ancient sky bison had been the very first airbenders and they were clearly flourishing. Somehow, above all odds and _despite_ them, they were flourishing. And right then Aang had no doubts that one day his own people would flourish again as well. He would never doubt that again.

He wasted very little time returning home, eager and anxious to share his incredible discovery with Katara, Appa and Momo. By the time he made it back to the temple dusk had already descended and Katara was in the process of making dinner. She flicked him with a cursory glance filled with aggravation when he landed.

"What happened? You said you would be back before dark," she said in a clipped tone.

"I was a jerk to you earlier," he blurted without reserve, "I'm sorry. You were right. I can't just walk out on the hard conversations. I know that. I'm working on it."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth though she tried hard to bite it back as she stirred her pot of vegetables. "Old airbender habits die hard, huh?" she teased him softly.

"Yeah. I guess so."

Katara chanced another sideways glance at him, this one tempered with concern. "But do you feel better, at least?"

"I do actually."

"Good. Why don't you come sit down for dinner? It's almost done. You can tell me where you've been all this time."

She was surprised when, rather than accepting her invitation, Aang held out his hand to her instead. "I think it might be a better idea if I _showed_ you."

**~End~**


	2. Gifts in Men

**Gifts in Men**

"Maybe I should take them something," Aang mused aloud, "Exactly what kind of gift says 'sorry, I was really a jerk?'" After posing those two hypothetical questions to himself, he glanced away from the mirror and over at Katara for guidance. "I don't suppose I could offer them the same apology I gave you, huh?"

Katara paused in the act of tying her moccasins and shook her head, blushing with the memory of that ardent apology. "Yeah, I think that might get a little awkward."

The two exchanged mischievous grins before Aang resumed inspecting his reflection in the polished oval mirror situated at the far corner of their bedroom. As he studied himself in full airbender attire, Aang's mind invariably turned to the business that lay ahead, namely his decision to finally pay an unannounced visit to Jampa's village to offer him and his people an apology. That night, after Aang had taken Katara, Appa and Momo to the spot where he had discovered that secret community of bison, he and Katara had shared a lengthy and emotional discussion about the story Jampa and Jinpa had told them.

Aang admitted to her that while learning that there had been airbenders who had survived the initial raids hadn't been a surprise to him, it had been the wild hope that there might be some still alive that had been his undoing. He hadn't even realized that part of him had continued to hang on to that miniscule possibility that one day he would meet another airbender until very recently. He had been working hard to repress his feelings about it ever since. Understandably then, he had been irrationally angry with Jampa and his people for stirring them up again. But once Aang had been willing to address that truth with himself and Katara letting go of his anger after that had been much easier. And, now that it had abated, the only thing left was for him to do was to make amends.

Truthfully, Aang had come to the conclusion weeks ago that he owed Jampa's people an apology and so much more than that but life, as it was wont to do, seemed to get in the way of his best intentions. Before he could execute his plan to visit their village, he and Katara had been called away on Avatar business. The steady political squabbles arising over the newly formed Republic of United Nations had kept them away from the temple for nearly two weeks.

When they finally returned to the Southern Air Temple they had a surprise waiting for them that delayed Aang's plan even further. The temple courtyard and skies had suddenly become heavily populated with the herd of sky bison Aang had discovered. Apparently, in his absence, the herd had decided to relocate…to the Southern Air Temple. Suddenly, he and Katara had their hands full caring for the needs of dozens and dozens of adult bison as well as their calves, not to mention the droves of flying lemurs who made themselves at home in the fruit trees surrounding the temple. Corralling a mass of wild sky bison and a single tame albeit _wildly _enthusiastic one into some semblance of order had been quite an undertaking and had taken some time, especially for _two_ people but somehow Aang and Katara had managed to do so while largely keeping their sanity intact.

Still, by the time it was all said and done, three weeks had ensued since the confrontation with Jampa and his people and not a single one of the villagers had made a reappearance since that fateful day. Aang knew very well that none of them would set foot on the temple grounds again until he personally gave them permission to do so. For that reason, he was more than a little anxious to set matters straight between them but he wasn't entirely sure that they would welcome the gesture.

Those emotions must have been playing themselves plainly across his features right then because he suddenly felt Katara slip her arms around his waist from behind. He relaxed against her with a grateful sigh, reveling in the warmth that radiated from her body as she held him tight. "You're going to do fine," she reassured him, nuzzling against his back, "They're going to welcome you with open arms, Aang."

"I don't know why they would," he grumbled more to himself than to herself, "I treated them dreadfully when they were here. I wouldn't be surprised if they never wanted to see my face again."

"That's not true. They understood that you were in shock."

Aang directed a skeptical look at her over his shoulder. "Katara, I made _little kids_ cry."

"That probably wasn't your best moment," she hedged in agreement, "But it was a lot to take in."

"Maybe," he sighed as he turned fully in her arms, "I just wish I had handled it better."

"Well, you have the opportunity to do better today. This is your second chance."

"Sokka always says that you never get a second chance to make a first impression."

"Sokka also believes that meat is the cure for all that ails you," Katara countered dryly, "I wouldn't put much stock in my brother's 'pearls' of wisdom if I were you, Aang." When he still appeared uncertain after that, she asked, "Do you know what you're going to say to them?"

"Beyond 'thank you?'" No. Not really. I'm not really sure what you say to someone who has unselfishly dedicated their life to restoring your home while, apparently, expecting nothing in return."

"I think 'thank you' is a good start."

After they were finished getting dressed, Aang and Katara loaded Appa's saddle with a few light supplies and, with Momo curled into Katara's lap, Aang directed Appa towards the base of the mountain. They were both harboring uncertainty over what awaited them there but neither of them spoke of their insecurities aloud. Instead, they huddled close together, their hands clasped tightly as Appa made his descent down into the valley.

It wasn't easy to spot the village from overhead. There was a dense cover of trees that provided camouflage for the community and made it difficult to determine exactly where the small houses were located. But, after a few minutes of circling, Aang and Katara finally spotted arcing tendrils of smoke rising from among the towering treetops and they knew they had reached their destination. As Aang brought Appa in for a careful landing, many of the villagers had already begun exiting their homes in preparation to greet them. By the time they were settled in the clearing, it was already filling with dozens upon dozens of people.

Aang and Katara carefully dismounted from Appa on a gentle bed of air and when they did Jampa and Jinpa were waiting for them. Far from being hostile, however, their faces were wreathed in relieved smiles. Their unguarded joy at seeing them again helped to quell the trepidation that was churning in Aang's belly.

"Avatar Aang, welcome to our home!" Jampa boomed jovially, "We are honored to host you here."

"Thank you, Jampa," Aang replied, "I know you weren't expecting us and-,"

"—Nonsense," Jampa interrupted before Aang could finish, "You are always welcome here, Avatar."

"Again, thank you, but… I wanted to apologize to you for my behavior before," Aang told him, "Being back in the Southern Air Temple has been difficult for me and… I wrongly took that pain out on you and your people." Aang bent forward and pressed his fist into his palm in a respectful bow. "I would like to sincerely ask for your forgiveness, Jampa."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Avatar Aang," Jampa said softly, "and there is nothing to forgive."

"Please, call me Aang," Aang insisted gently, "_Just Aang_. I think we've passed the point of having such formalities between us."

"I would certainly agree with that statement," Jampa murmured with a smile, "…_Aang_."

Katara stepped forward with a smile of her own. "Do you think that perhaps we could start over?"

Jinpa released a relieved laugh over the suggestion. "I think we should like that very much."

After finally making formal introductions to one another, Jampa and Jinpa introduced Aang and Katara to all those gathered in the clearing before leading them further into the village. There they were systematically greeted by each and every member of the community. It was a rather small village, consisting of no more than one hundred or so families but they were obviously a close-knit group and viewed themselves more as family than neighbors.

After meeting what seemed like an endless processional of people, Jampa and Jinpa finally introduced Aang and Katara to their ten year old son, Anil. Aang immediately recognized him as one of the children who had gathered around Appa the night they had come to visit. The memory of his sorrowful face had been one of the many that continued to leave Aang inundated with guilt from that night. But, much like his parents, Anil did not seem to hold a grudge against him and was unreserved in offering his forgiveness. Following that, he and Aang had become fast friends.

It wasn't too long before Aang was entertaining the village children with various airbending tricks while Katara sat on the sidelines with Jinpa and the other women, watching his antics with an affectionate smile. Katara was so absorbed in studying Aang that she didn't immediately realize that she had become the focus of Jinpa's scrutiny until she glanced up and found the older woman regarding her with a curious smile. Katara checked the impulse to duck her head self-consciously.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Have you and Aang really been honeymooning in the air temple all of this time?" Jinpa remarked with a measure of shock, "I'm surprised that we hadn't encountered you before now. We've visited the temple several times in the past two months."

"Well, we're not _always_ there," Katara explained with a blush, "Aang's duties take us away pretty frequently. Sometimes we're gone for weeks at a time."

Jinpa regarded her with a sympathetic, sideways glance. "That doesn't sound like much of a honeymoon."

"It's not the most ideal circumstances," Katara admitted, "But we're together and that's all that matters to me."

"Spoken like a newlywed. You love him very much, don't you?"

Invariably, Katara's gaze was drawn back to Aang. She watched with a wistful smile as the village children chased after him while he zipped back and forth on his air scooter. It reminded her of the countless visits they had made to various townships over the years and how easily he made friends no matter where they went. As his laughter mingled with the village children's and resounded in cheerful, lilting tones throughout the village, Katara could feel her heart swell with expanding emotion for him…this boy, this incredible, carefree spirit who was her husband.

"Sometimes, I feel like I was born to love him," she sighed.

"I know the feeling."

The affection laced in Jinpa's softly uttered reply had Katara glancing over at the older woman sharply, her brows drawing together in a frown of dawning realization. "You love him too," she surmised with some amazement. She didn't know how that would be possible when Jinpa didn't even know Aang or why it seemed like such an easy notion to accept but once Katara had voiced it aloud she knew absolutely that it was true.

In an act of deliberate misunderstanding, Jinpa dismissed the charge with a self-conscious laugh. "Of course, I do. Who doesn't love him? He is the Avatar, after all."

"No. I mean, he's _special_ to you. And not just because he's the Avatar either. You feel a connection to Aang, don't you?"

Katara didn't need for Jinpa to confirm her suspicions aloud. The truth was plainly visible in the older woman's eyes and easily recognizable. After all, Katara herself had felt that same instant and undeniable connection to Aang mere seconds after liberating him from that iceberg. Somehow, she had known on an instinctive level that her and Aang's destinies were intertwined. Katara could easily recognize that same affinity in Jinpa as well.

"What aren't you telling us, Jinpa?" Katara asked her in growing suspicion, "Who are you really?"

Deciding abruptly to drop all pretense then, Jinpa suddenly shifted to her feet. "Come with me," she invited, "It's time you learned the entire truth."

Although it had taken a fair amount of coaxing on her part, Katara managed to pull Aang away from the children. He was just as reluctant to leave them as they were to have him leave so persuading him to suspend his fun and games proved to be an exercise in patience. But, after promising the disappointed group that she would return him to them as soon as she could, both Katara and Aang retired to Jampa's and Jinpa's home for tea.

Their house was a simple one, consisting of little more than three rooms. It was decorated sparsely but efficiently, much in the manner that many of the air temple common rooms had been with brilliant hues of red, orange and yellow. In fact, in many ways, the home reminded Aang of the temple in its former heyday. The main room of the house was even adorned with several sacred airbender relics. Aang refrained from barraging Jinpa with questions about how they had come into her and Jampa's possession because he was certain an explanation was imminent but, it was difficult to hold his tongue.

As he, Katara and Jinpa settled themselves down for afternoon tea, Jampa loitered outside of the house and good naturedly shooed away the nosy, overzealous neighbors who also wanted an opportunity to spend time with the esteemed Avatar. Their hushed protests gradually faded into the distance as Jampa resolutely drew them away from the house. It was clear that whatever Jinpa wanted to discuss with them, she obviously didn't want any spectators.

Both curious and mildly alarmed by the realization, Aang set aside his teacup and decided to address the matter immediately rather than skirting around pleasantries. "Katara mentioned to me that you wanted to speak to us about something. What is it?"

Jinpa appeared taken aback by his forthright approach and, for a second, had no ready response. Finally, she bit back an ironic smile. "I hadn't expected that you would be so direct," she said, "I thought airbenders were known for evading and avoiding."

Aang ducked his head sheepishly. "I still have that tendency sometimes," he admitted, "But you look like you have something important to say so I thought that we should get right into it."

"Very well then," Jinpa agreed, following Aang's lead and setting aside her own cup. "I mentioned to you before that my family lineage was Fire Nation. Specifically speaking, my mother's mother was Fire Nation but…_my mother's_ _father_ was an airbender."

The silence that followed that astonishing revelation was deafening. Aang was glad he was no longer holding his teacup because he surely would have dropped it in that moment. As it was, it took him several seconds to recover and, when he did, he had great difficulty formulating his thoughts into actual words.

"What?" he rasped, certain he couldn't have heard her correctly, "I mean, how… What did you say?"

"I said my grandfather was an airbender. His name was Tsering. And I understand that you knew him very well."

_Tsering._ _Tsering._ The name was indeed familiar and brought with it a flood of painful, happy memories and a host of conflicting emotions as well. Smiling, bright-eyed, mischievous Tsering who was quick at airball and even quicker with a glider. He had been only a year younger than Aang. His best friend. His partner in crime. His wing man. Together they had played airball together, glider surfed until dusk fell across the sky, and generally incurred endless lectures from the head monks with their irreverent pranking. For the longest time, they had been inseparable until Aang's identity as the Avatar had been announced. After that…_everything changed_.

"He always regretted the way he treated you," Jinpa said, easily reading the unspoken thoughts that tumbled through Aang's mind right then, "He wasn't jealous, if that's what you're thinking. He told me that he was happy for you but that he was afraid. He knew that everything would change after you were revealed and he didn't think your friendship would be the same so…he wanted to stop being your friend before _you_ stopped being _his_. It was an 11 year old boy's logic. Believe me, as grown man, he understood the fallacy in his thinking."

"I wouldn't have stopped being his friend. That wasn't going to happen," Aang denied hoarsely, "But I didn't have anyone after the monks told me. Only Gyatso. And then they tried to take _him_ from me too."

Katara reached over to cover his bunched hand with her own. "Did you really know her grandfather, Aang?"

"Yes," he uttered emotionally, "If we're talking about the same boy then yes…yes, I knew him very well."

Aware of the unspoken questions that must have been plaguing them both at that moment, Jinpa went on to explain, "My grandfather was one of five boys that were discovered hiding in these forests after the raids. He was the youngest of them, only eleven years old at the time. He had been severely burned and was near death.

"A kind Earth Kingdom family took them all in but they especially cared for my grandfather because no one expected him to survive."

While it was clear that Aang was struggling with a response to learning that his erstwhile best friend had been so close to death, Katara was already firing questions even before Jinpa had finished speaking. "And the other boys just left him here," she concluded, somewhat aghast, "Left him with strangers to die? How could they do that?"

"They didn't _want_ to leave him," Jinpa replied emphatically, "But it was important to them to find other survivors. At the time, they were all certain that Aang had been killed in the raid. Time was of the essence. They believed that they would only have a short window before the Avatar was reborn and they knew once that happened he or she would be vulnerable to the Fire Nation. They felt it was their duty to protect the new Avatar at all costs."

She glanced over to Aang then but, he wouldn't meet her eyes. Instead, he continued to stare down at his hands, which were balled in his lap as she said, "I imagine that had something to do with their guilt over how they had treated Aang.

"So, they left my grandfather behind and they went off to search for the others," Jinpa concluded sorrowfully, "They were never seen again."

"Because Sozin systematically lured all the air nomads to their deaths," Aang interjected grimly, "He wasn't going to stop until every last airbender was dead."

"Yes…" Jinpa agreed.

"Well, obviously your grandfather survived," Katara observed in a gruff tone, "or you wouldn't be here so… What happened after that?"

"It took several months but eventually he recovered from his injuries," Jinpa replied, "And, by the time he had, the couple who had taken him in loved him like a son. Of course, his most immediate desire as soon as he recovered was to leave and search for more airbenders but his foster family _begged_ him not to go. They _knew_ that certain death waited for him if he left their protection. He had already lost so much as a result of the Fire Nation's cruelty, scarred physically and emotionally from his ordeal. It wasn't right that he should have to sacrifice more."

"So, he stayed with them," Aang concluded in a garbled tone.

"Yes. He stayed with them and he lived. And he struggled with the guilt of that decision all of his life."

Suddenly, Aang pierced her with hopeful gray eyes, his expression anguished, devastated and desperate all at the same time. "Does that mean…are you…?"

"I'm not an airbender, Aang," Jinpa interrupted with gathering tears, "Though I have wished all of my life that I was."

"What about your mother?" Aang pressed, "The rest of your family? Surely, one of you…"

"No one," Jinpa replied, "My grandfather had four children. Three of them were nonbenders."

"And the fourth?"

"A firebender. None of my grandfather's descendants has produced a single airbender."

Aang digested her disheartening reply with a rough swallow. "So, there's really no one else but me now," he whispered in defeat. After everything he had seen and endured in the last seven years, it was the first time the reality sank in deeply for Aang, killing all residual hope that he might have held to. It was the first time that he truly, utterly believed it.

"When did your grandfather die, Jinpa?" Katara asked. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the rest of the story and she certainly knew that Aang didn't but she was also equally certain that he _needed_ to hear it.

"Ten years before the Avatar returned," Jinpa replied, "But, by then, he knew that Aang must have survived the raids because the Avatar was never reborn."

Her words drew a shuttered glance from Aang. "He knew I was alive?"

"He knew you were out there. He knew he wasn't the last airbender."

"He must have thought I had abandoned them…that I had abandoned them all," Aang lamented.

"No! Never," Jinpa cried emphatically, "He said that you would have never stayed away so long without a good reason…that there _had_ to be a reason. He knew that you would return and he believed that until the day he died."

"And that's why you chose to restore the temple?" Aang realized softly, "For him. For his memory."

"And for you. My grandfather spoke of you so fondly that I feel as if I've known you my entire life. You have no idea how long I have waited to meet you."

"How can you say that when I'm the reason Tsering suffered all of those years?"

"You didn't do that. _The Fire Nation_ did that. _Sozin_ did that. They stole a lifetime from my grandfather and from you and from me," Jinpa said, "When my grandfather was alive, we were forbidden to go to up the mountain. He wouldn't allow it _ever_. He feared reprisal from the Fire Nation and, because of that, he spent the remainder of his life repressing who he was, _hiding_ who he was. It changed him. It changed us all."

"So your family…"

"Is broken in many ways," Jinpa finished quietly, "My mother never forgave my grandfather for not fighting. She couldn't understand that it wasn't in his nature, that it went against the very tenets on which he had been raised. I think she was always more Fire Nation in temperament than Air Nomad. She accused him of giving up and turning his back on his people. She and my father left this village when I was no older than Anil is now."

The complicated feelings Jinpa obviously still harbored for her mother was evident in every word she spoke and Katara couldn't help but sympathize with her and even pity her. "But you returned here even after all of that," she said, "You came back."

"Because my heart is here," Jinpa replied simply, "It always has been."

"I…I have truly wronged you, Jinpa," Aang uttered when he was sure he could speak without bursting into tears, "The other night when you came and I ordered you from the temple… I had no right to do that. You have just as much right to be there as I do."

"Please don't beat yourself up over that," Jinpa pleaded, "I took no offense. Jampa and I understood very well that we took you by surprise. You weren't expecting us."

"It doesn't matter. Bending or not, you're as much air nomad as I am."

"The Southern Air Temple is your home, Aang. This village is mine. The only thing that I have wanted since I was little girl was to restore what my grandfather lost, what _my people_ lost. Not just at this temple but _all_ of them. I can't rest until it's done."

Aang reached across the small table between them and covered her hand with his own. "And we can do that," he reassured her softly, "We _will_ do that. We'll restore them all. Together."

They spent four hours more in the village with Jinpa and her family. She told Aang and Katara of the life her grandfather had lived during that 100 years of war. She recounted to them the years that Tsering had struggled with nightmares following that awful night at the temple, of the guilt and shame that plagued him following his decision to remain hidden. She told them of the incredible love story between her grandfather and grandmother, how they had managed to fall in love despite the heinous treatment his people had suffered at the hands of hers. She recounted his devastation following the untimely death of his beloved wife and how that had led to a falling out with his daughter and oldest son, a rift that would never be mended. And finally, she shared with them the prophetic dream her grandfather had been given on his deathbed, the incredible vision of the Avatar encased in ice and the Watertribe girl who freed him.

When the visit was finally over, Aang was emotionally spent. He was overwhelmed with so many thoughts and feelings that it seemed inconceivable that he would ever be able to make sense of them, let alone put them into words. Consequently and much to Katara's consternation, he was silent during the journey back up the mountain, locked painfully in his own personal agony as all that he had learned rolled around in his head again and again.

Upon reaching the air temple, Aang dismounted without a word and started to head inside, evidently with the intention of retiring for the night. Katara watched him walk away with a mournful stare. Even Appa and Momo regarded him in muted despair, mewling in sympathy. On some level, Katara knew that she should let him go and give him an opportunity to sort it out on his own but, at the same time, she couldn't bear the thought of him suffering alone when it was clear he was in incredible pain.

"Don't…don't you think we should talk about it?" she posed anxiously at his retreating back before he could disappear into the temple. Aang paused mid-step but didn't immediately turn around to face her. The fact that he didn't gutted Katara a little. "Please don't shut me out, Aang."

Aang dropped his shoulders forward with a defeated sigh. "That's not what I'm doing, Katara."

"Well, what else am I supposed to think when you won't talk to me?" she charged softly.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say anything you want," she encouraged him, "I won't judge you. Say what you're thinking…what you're feeling…"

He turned to face her then and, for the first time, Katara could see that his tears were falling unchecked. "I _feel_ like I've lost my people all over again."

"Oh, Aang…"

"And, at the same time, I feel like I _found_ them too," he added thickly, "It's like I'm happy and sad all at once and I don't know how to process it."

"I can't believe that whole time that there were airbenders still left in the world," Katara mused aloud, "Do you think Tsering was the only one?"

"I doubt it. Who knows how many were out there, Katara."

"Don't do that," she pleaded when she spied the self-recrimination in his gray eyes, "I don't want you to blame yourself for what happened to Tsering…for what happened to them all."

"How can I not?" Aang wondered, "He waited for me. Until the day he died, he was _waiting_ for me. They were all waiting for me, Katara. I _should_ have been here. How can I live with the fact that I wasn't?"

"Because it wasn't your choice!"

"I made the choice to run away!'

"You were _twelve_ years old! You didn't ask to be frozen in an iceberg for 100 years, Aang!"

"But it's not like I'm completely sorry that I was!" he fired back, "So what do I do with that?"

"Would you hate me if I told you that I'm not sorry either?" Katara asked in a meek tone, "I can't be sorry. You being frozen in that iceberg is the only reason you and I even met, Aang. I have to believe that happened for a reason."

Far from being angry with her, Aang dropped down onto a nearby rock, his expressive pensive and forlorn. "You want to know something crazy?" he remarked when she eased down beside him, "So do I." Taking advantage of her stunned silence following that admission, Aang reached over and laced his fingers with hers. "I can't think of any other reason why Tsering would have had a vision about us if all of this weren't somehow meant to happen."

"You mean you think the air nomads were destined to be wiped out or something?" Katara wondered, obviously repulsed by the idea, "You think they were _supposed_ to die?"

"I don't know what I mean," Aang sighed, "But there has to be a reason that I'm the last airbender. There has to be a reason why airbending has obviously been suppressed all of these years otherwise why wouldn't Tsering have had at least _one_ airbending child? Or any of them for that matter!"

"You think that's on purpose?"

"I don't know. Maybe…"

Katara was almost afraid to voice her next question aloud but the words were already tripping past her lips before she could stop them. "So does that mean that you think that _we_ won't have any airbending children?"

"Maybe we won't," Aang considered, "Maybe I really am meant to be the last." Katara looked so devastated by the prospect, so dejected that Aang quickly began backpedaling to soften the blow. "I don't know, Katara. This is all hypothetical. I'm thinking all kinds of crazy things right now. Besides, kids are a long way off for us anyway."

Katara licked at the tears gathering at the corners of her mouth. "But I don't want you to be the last, Aang. It's not fair. It's not right."

"Hey, don't do that. I might be the last airbender," he considered, tenderly whisking away the tears that fell on her cheeks, "but I'm not the last of my people and _that's_ what matters. My culture doesn't have to die because they did. It lives in me and it lives in Jinpa and her family. That has to be enough for now."

"I don't know how you can bear all of this without going crazy," Katara whispered.

"Because I have you," he whispered back, leaning forward to kiss her gently, "You've always kept me steady. _I love you_."

She returned his kiss with fervent enthusiasm. "I love you too."

"Do you think we could table this discussion for another time then?" he asked, "It's been a really long day and I'm tired and all I really want to do is hold you, Katara."

Katara closed her eyes and leaned her forehead into his with a grateful sigh. "Sure we can, Aang. I can't think of anything I'd like more."

**~End~**


	3. Putting Away Childish Things

**Putting Away Childish Things**

"So when exactly are you planning to tell Aang that he's going to be a father?"

Katara swiveled a startled glance at Jinpa. The older women barely glanced up from the shirt she was currently mending but it was easy to spot the knowing smirk ghosting the corners of her mouth. She knew that Jinpa was merely engaging in a bit of affectionate teasing but, in that particular moment, Katara couldn't bring herself to smile back. Her nerves were already frayed enough and she was only further distressed by how easily Jinpa had guessed her condition.

It wasn't as if it had been some grand scheme on Katara's part to keep her pregnancy a secret. In truth, she had only been sure herself for a paltry two days. The reality had yet to sink in.

In the beginning, she had chalked up her lingering fatigue to constant travel, work stress and the sudden responsibility of having to care for more than two dozen wild sky bison. Not to mention the fact that she was still very much a newlywed and spent most of her nights engaged in passionate pursuits with her new husband. _That_ particular pastime didn't afford much time for sleep at all. Not that Katara was complaining at all but, rather the combination of circumstances gave weight to why she might feel so tired and run down. Even her boundlessly energetic husband was drooping at times…

But when a second month passed without her menses and she also began to experience inexplicable and completely random bouts with nausea throughout the day, Katara came to realize that what ailed her was much more than common fatigue or even sleep deprivation. She and Aang were going to have a baby. The realization had been rolling around in her brain in an unbroken refrain for the past two days and, quite honestly, it was starting to freak her out a little.

In hindsight Katara supposed that pregnancy was a foregone conclusion. After all, she and Aang hadn't exactly been diligent about guarding against it. One year prior, when they were still acquainting themselves to the intimate aspect of their relationship, her brother had taken them both aside and given them the most humiliating sex talk imaginable. Even the memory of that conversation caused Katara to groan inwardly.

During that same encounter, Sokka had also given them a special tea (courtesy of General Iroh, no less) with instructions that Katara should drink it every day if she didn't want any "unexpected surprises." And she had been extremely regimented about drinking a cup every single day ever since. That is she _had_ been regimented about drinking it every single day before she and Aang were officially married. But in the past few months? Not so much.

With that in mind and considering how much she and Aang went at it every chance they got, it made complete sense that she would eventually become pregnant. After all, one thing usually begot the other. Perfectly reasonable, scientifically based logic. But just because it made sense that didn't mean that Katara felt like she was ready to become a mom. And she didn't feel ready. Not by a long shot.

She and Aang had only been married for three and a half months. For all intents and purposes, barring the constant interruptions from work, they were still on their honeymoon. The world also continued to be in the throes of much political chaos following the war's end and she and Aang had their hands full with restoring balance and helping to maintain the peace. Not to mention the fact that Aang was probably going through one of the most emotional periods he had experienced in his life since learning of his people's genocide. It was a pretty crazy time really and not exactly the most ideal for throwing in a baby.

In addition to that, she and Aang were relatively young. She was barely into her twenties and Aang was literally in his teens. Granted, he was probably the wisest nineteen year old she'd ever know and would also be turning twenty later that year but that was beside the point. They were still in their prime, blessed with the freedom to go where they wanted and do what they wanted because, beyond work and some occasional animal care, they had no real responsibilities to tie them down.

Katara liked that. She reveled in being able to pick up and go with Aang whenever and wherever they wanted. She _liked_ that it was just the two of them. She might have to share him with the world in some respects but on all other fronts he was _hers_ and hers alone. She had anticipated that they would have several more years like that before they finally settled down to do the parenting thing.

Which inevitably brought Katara around to another pressing concern. She and Aang hadn't really had a conversation about children before. Beyond acknowledging the desire that they wanted them _someday_ but relegating that "someday" to some far off and as yet undetermined date, they hadn't really discussed it extensively. Perhaps because talk of children would inevitably lead to talk of having an airbending child and whether that was even possible at all and Aang, her sweet, considerate but maddeningly evasive husband Aang, was in no headspace these days to have _that _discussion.

In short, Katara wanted children with Aang. That had been an inescapable conclusion almost from the moment she realized she was in love with him. A child would be the purest manifestation of the love they shared for one another. Unfortunately, she hadn't anticipated conceiving those children barely four months into their marriage. And, as elated as she was about the prospect of the new life growing inside of her, especially for seeing Aang's face when she gave him the news, Katara was equally terrified.

She wasn't sure if she was ready for the responsibility a baby would bring or how it would eventually change things between her and Aang. She wasn't even entirely sure that _Aang_ could handle it emotionally right then. Honestly, she wasn't sure that _she_ could.

All of that had conflict had been churning away in Katara's gut for the better part of two days, leaving her emotional, edgy and euphoric all at once. So, to have Jinpa guess at her condition so easily and all by merely _looking_ at her…that was all Katara needed to go sailing over the proverbial cliff. One minute she was gaping at Jinpa in disbelief and the next she was dissolving into noisy tears.

Alarmed, Jinpa hastily set aside the shirt she had been mending and gathered the weeping girl into her arms. "There, there," she crooned in motherly concern, lovingly stroking the expanse of Katara's heaving back as she cried and cried and cried. "Oh sweetheart, let it all out…"

"I…I…I…d-don't even kn-know w-why I'm cr-crying!" Katara wailed plaintively.

"Hmm, that sounds about right," Jinpa chuckled, "Hormones can be a tricky thing." Unfortunately, her teasing remark only caused Katara to cry harder. "Oh, Katara, what's wrong?" Jinpa cajoled gently, "Were you and Aang not trying to have a baby?"

"N-Not th-this s-sooooon!" Katara hiccupped in lamentation.

"Well, that's the thing about babies, Katara," Jinpa murmured with a commiserative smile, "They always seem to happen on their own timetable. That was certainly true in my case."

As Katara's sobs gradually lessened into quiet sniffles, she lifted her head to regard Jinpa with wide, wet eyes as the full import of the older woman's words began to dawn on her. After dutifully wiping her eyes and blowing her nose on the scrap of material Jinpa provided, Katara asked, "Are you saying that Anil wasn't planned?"

"Absolutely not!" Jinpa balked, "I never planned to have children, not while the Fire Nation was still in power and the chance of me giving birth to an airbender was even a remote possibility! I couldn't knowingly put a child through the same existence that my grandfather had endured so I gave up on the idea of becoming a mother at all. But then the Universe had other plans. And now Anil is here and I couldn't imagine my life without him."

Jinpa's gaze was drawn to where the aforementioned sat huddled with Aang surrounded by a smaller group of children while Aang gave them all a lesson in designing a modified glider for nonbenders. He and Anil sate close together while they worked and it was clear even from a distance that Aang was paying Anil particularly special attention. As Jinpa watched, the young Avatar leaned over to mutter something in aside to Anil and whatever it was must have been decidedly silly because Anil suddenly threw back his head with a sharp burst of laughter while Aang smirked mischievously, clearly pleased with himself. A small smile tugged at Jinpa's mouth with the sight and, when she glanced over at Katara, she saw that the younger woman's expression mirrored her own.

"He's very good with Anil," she remarked to Katara, her tone filled with gratitude, pride and affection.

"Aang has always wanted a sibling," Katara said, "He views Anil as a younger brother. I think…I think that maybe he sees Tsering in him."

"Quite possibility," Jinpa murmured, "Anil does bear a strong resemblance to his great grandfather…in more ways than one." She glanced over at her son again, noting now that Aang had the entire throng of children laughing uproariously and not just Anil. "He's very good with children in general, isn't he?"

"That's because he's a big kid himself," Katara snorted wryly but the affection in her tone was palpable.

"He'll make an incredible father, Katara."

The comment left Katara flustered, not because she doubted its veracity but because it was a forceful reminder of her current dilemma. "I know," she sighed in acknowledgement somewhat despondently, "Aang will be a great dad. I don't doubt that at all."

"Well, are you worried about becoming a mother?" Jinpa wondered, "Because I have no doubts that you'll do splendidly."

"It's not _that_ either although I _do_ have some doubts about how 'splendid' I'll be."

"Then what of earth has you so unsure of yourself, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm worried because I know everything is going to change, Jinpa, and I'm not ready," she admitted in a suffocated tone, "I don't want it to change."

"What do you mean 'everything is going to change?' Change how?"

"What happens when Aang has to go on a mission now?" Katara hypothesized a little wildly, "Do I still go with him and, if I do, how long is that going to last? What if it's dangerous? What if there's fighting involved? How am I supposed to protect him if I'm all awkward and ungainly?"

"And you see that as your job? To protect Aang?"

"Aang protects the world and I protect him," Katara declared staunchly, "It's been that way since I was fourteen years old. I don't know anything else."

"Oh, Katara…"

"He still needs me, Jinpa. And I need him."

"A baby won't change that, Katara."

"Really? You think? Because I was always under the impression that parents were supposed to put their children first!'

"It's true that your children need to be a top priority, Katara, but it's not that simple. You still have a make your marriage a priority as well. It's a balancing act."

"And how's that supposed to work?" Katara lamented further, "What happens to Aang and me after this baby comes? Our marriage isn't going to be the same. We won't be able to have those lazy days in bed anymore or take off on Appa for random trips or spend weeks traveling the countryside just because we can. We're going to lose all of our freedom!"

Even to her own ears, Katara sounded selfish and unreasonable but she couldn't help how she felt. She couldn't deny that those were her fears. Right or wrong. Good or bad. She told Jinpa as much.

"Well, it's true that children bring with them a certain measure of responsibility that calls for structure and self-sacrifice," Jinpa acknowledged sagely, "but becoming a parent isn't just about losing your personal freedom. Maybe you _do_ lose that on some level, Katara, but you gain so much more. You are being given a gift, a rare opportunity to shape another human being and prepare them for this life.

"There is an untold amount of joy and satisfaction in that. Trust me. It's a humbling experience to become someone's mother. And, in the end, that's going to make you a better person, a better fighter _and_ a better wife."

Katara continued to contemplate Jinpa's wise words later that evening as she lay beneath the covers and watched as Aang prepared for bed as well. He prattled on about the upcoming bison shedding season, glider building and the possibility of taking Anil flying while Katara listened with an absent smile and wondered how she could possibly love him more than she did in that moment. She also wondered how exactly she should tell him that he was going to be a father.

She had two options. One, she could just blurt it out and wait to see how he reacted. Two, she could devise some elaborate, romantic, over the top gesture in order to make the reveal. Neither prospect seemed particularly appealing to her. Perhaps that was because she harbored so much anxiety about it all that everything felt almost _dire_ to her, much too serious to be treated with whimsical care or to be blundered through thoughtlessly. It was a serious subject that required a serious discussion with lots of forethought. Unfortunately, knowing that and knowing how to begin that serious subject were two entirely different things. Katara was still stewing about it and thinking that she might just try to tackle it in the morning after a good night's rest when Aang finally came to bed.

As was his custom of late, he had stripped down to absolutely nothing and, after extinguishing the candlelight at their bedside, scrambled beneath the covers to draw her against him. On any other night he might have initiated a kiss with the full intention of coaxing her into more but Aang was aware that Katara had not been feeling well of late. For that reason, he had quelled his amorous endeavors in the past week in hopes of giving her an opportunity to recover. However, from his vantage point, it didn't seem that she was getting better at all. Far from having seduction on his mind then, instead Aang found himself fretting internally over Katara's mysterious illness and whether or not it could be something serious.

Ultimately, it was his growing concern over the matter that finally prompted him to ask, "Still feeling queasy?"

Katara snuggled closer into the warm circle of his arms. "It's not too bad today."

"You think it might have been something you ate?"

"No."

"You think you might need a healer?" Aang ventured next.

Katara grunted a tired laugh. "Aang, I'm fine. Don't worry."

"You tell me not to worry when you look terrible. How am I supposed to do that?"

She fixed him with a wry scowl. "Wow, such compliments. You really know how to turn a girl's head, Aang."

"You know what I mean. You don't seem 'fine' to me, Katara. What if you're really sick?"

"I'm not sick," she refuted. And because she was growing increasingly uneasy with the direction of their conversation, Katara decided to course correct. "If anything, I'm sleep deprived." She directed a teasing glance at him over her shoulder. "Maybe if someone didn't keep me awake at all hours of the night…"

Aang had difficulty suppressing his answering smile. "You could always tell me 'no.'"

Katara shifted in his arms then so that they were lying face to face. Her eyes darkened with seductive implication and stirring desire when she whispered, "I _never_ want to tell you 'no,' Aang."

His body's response to the obvious invitation in her words was both undeniable and instantaneous. Aang groaned aloud and deliberately shifted his hips away from hers before her questing fingers could make contact with his fevered skin. She pouted at his efforts to dodge her caress. Aang was unmoved.

"You need to sleep, Katara," he declared resolutely.

"What if I don't want to sleep?" she challenged only to ruin that show of bravado when she yawned broadly.

Aang rolled his eyes. "Oh, whatever. Go to sleep already."

"Will you hold me, please?" she requested sweetly.

"Only if you promise no shenanigans," Aang groused as he tugged her close again. They snuggled together with languorous sighs of contentment, both only moments away from drifting off to sleep entirely. Aang brushed as absent kiss across Katara's forehead as he started to doze. "I actually like lying here with you like this," he remarked with drowsy candor, "Cuddles are nice too. We don't always have to have sex."

Katara cracked open one sleepy eye at that random comment, her expression filled with amusement. "Who are you trying to convince right now, airbender? Me or yourself?"

"I'm just saying that this is nice too."

"But not as nice as when you're deep inside m-,"

Aang quickly pressed his finger to her hips before she could finish that statement. He fixed her with a warning look. "Stop it," he admonished, biting back a smile, "I'm trying to be a considerate husband here."

Katara nipped at his fingers. "You _are_ considerate. And sweet. And funny. And so, so sexy…" She punctuated each declaration with nibbling kisses to his chin and throat, her breath stirring warmly against his skin with every exhalation. Aang groaned out her name mournfully. "Okay, okay," she relented finally when he began to whine, "I'll be good."

"Thanks," Aang replied grumpily, "I appreciate that."

Eventually, Katara's laughter over his exasperation with her faded into a wistful smile. "I wish we could stay like this forever, Aang," she sighed.

"I don't see why we can't."

"It's not always going to be like this," she mumbled sleepily, "It won't always be just the two of us."

And just like that, Aang was instantly, undeniably, incredibly _wide awake_. It wasn't anything Katara had said really but rather the _tone_ in her voice when she had said it, as if she wasn't speaking in hypothetical generalities right then but stating stone cold fact instead. And when he considered the reason for that conviction in correlation with the symptoms of her mysterious ailment of late, the nagging lethargy, the occasional bouts of nausea, the subtle changes he had noted to her body recently, Aang's thoughts led him towards one crazy, incredible, breathtaking conclusion. His heartrate quickening to an alarming degree, Aang very slowly and very deliberately uttered Katara's name.

"Yeah, Aang?"

"Um…are you…" He paused for a rough swallow, his mouth suddenly ridiculously arid. After a few seconds, he succeeded in ungluing his tongue from the roof of his mouth and tried again. "Are you pregnant?" Aang honestly didn't realize he had been holding his breath until she lifted her eyes to his and nodded meekly. Only then did all the air leak from his lungs in a hitching gasp. "For real? Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

Aang shifted upright then and reignited the candle on the table next to their bed, bathing their bedroom in a hazy, orange glow. Left with little choice in the matter, Katara sat up as well. Sleep, it seemed, was off the table for now.

"When?" Aang asked, his expression dazed.

"I don't know, Aang. I guess some time over the last two months when we've been going at it like rabbit-lemurs!"

He choked back a wry laugh at her reply. "I _meant_ when did you know?"

"Yesterday morning was when I became definite about it."

"Why didn't you say anything to me?"

"I was trying to figure out how to tell you."

"Why?"

"Because we weren't exactly planning for it," Katara argued, "And because every time we've talked about children in the past it leads into a discussion about whether or not there's a chance we'll have an airbender and then you immediately shut down on me."

"I do not," he protested weakly.

"You _do_. You know you do, Aang."

"I don't understand why it even has to be a discussion at all, Katara!"

"You see what I mean? This is what I'm saying! You're already dismissing it!"

"But why does it even have to matter right now?"

"Because it's a thing that we have to consider. Whether we talk about it or not, it's always there…this giant hippo-elephant in the room! You can't just pretend it's not an issue because you don't want to deal with it, Aang!"

She didn't dare mention the fact that airbending definitely _couldn't _end with him because an airbender would have to train the next Avatar and that discussion would require contemplating Aang's death and Aang absolutely wasn't ready to go there. Quite truthfully, neither was Katara. As far as she was concerned, that day was still a long, long, _long_ way off and, if she could have her way, it would _never_ come…at least not while _she_ was breathing. But presently, that inevitable future was a subject she didn't want to analyze too closely at all. Still that didn't mean she thought they could avoid talking about the matter forever and she told him that.

"Then maybe we should have this conversation again when we're in our thirties or something! _Right now_, I don't want to put that kind of pressure on you or myself or _a baby_ for that matter!" Aang cried, "It's not like we can _make_ it happen! I can wish all I want and that won't guarantee that our child will be an airbender! And it's not like my past lives have provided any insight on the matter so what am I supposed to do, Katara? Why can't we just be happy for now and take the rest as it comes?"

His emphatic reply left Katara deflated of any further arguments and her irritation with him suddenly forgotten. She regarded him with wide, expressive eyes brimming with hope. "Are you, Aang?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you happy about it?"

Aang softened when he noted the fear in her eyes and immediately gathered her back into his arms as a gesture of reassurance. Suddenly, the sharp outburst of emotion and tension between them was forgotten as their vulnerabilities were laid bare. Together, they curled up into each other's arms and settled down into the bedding once more.

"Of course, I'm happy. It's unexpected and it's sooner than I wanted but I _am_ happy. Did you honestly think I'd feel otherwise?"

"I don't know. My head has been in all kinds of crazy spaces lately."

"Tell me about it," Aang grunted. They exchanged commiserative smiles before he added, almost timidly, "What about you? Are you happy about it?"

After all the vacillating and soul searching she had done in the past two days Katara was surprised when she didn't have to consider her answer very long at all. The words came readily, easily. "Yes, I'm happy," she admitted in a wry tone, "I'm _really_ happy…when I'm not feeling completely terrified, that is."

"Why? We're having a baby. Why would that scare you, Katara?"

"Well, we haven't been married very long," she considered, "We're still figuring out how to be husband and wife."

"So?"

"So, now we're adding parenthood to the mix too. I…I don't want things to change between us, Aang," she confessed thickly, "I don't know if I'm ready for it not to be just us."

"I get that. These last few months with you have been pretty great. I like having you all to myself."

She snuggled deeper into his arms. "I like that too. But that's going to change when the baby comes. _We're_ going to change and I'm not ready."

"Why would we change, Katara?"

Just as quickly as she had found solace in his embrace, Katara's mood quickly veered back to pensive uncertainty. She rolled away from him to flop onto her back with a laconic grunt and threw her forearm across her eyes in dramatic repose. "Because babies change things. They just do."

"It's never going to change how much I love you," Aang whispered, "Not ever. In fact, I don't think I have loved you more than I do right now in this moment."

She peeked at him from beneath her arm. "Really?"

"You're amazing to me." He slid his hand down the expanse of her taut belly, splaying his slender fingers wide. His gray eyes were soft and luminous when he whispered, "I can't believe we made a baby together…"

At that point, Katara dropped her arm and briefly covered his hand with her own before drawing him down against her for a tender kiss. "Neither can I."

"I can't wait until it gets here. How long do you think it will take?"

Katara took a moment to formulate a quick mental calculation. "At least another eight months or so."

"Eight months!" Aang balked, rearing back with a disappointed frown, "That's practically a year! That's _forever_!"

"That's just how it works, Aang," Katara laughed, "I don't make the rules."

"I guess it's for the best," he reasoned capriciously a split second later, "We'll need that time to prepare, won't we?"

"Probably a good idea."

Aang fell silent for an instant, suddenly preoccupied with another realization. "Maybe we should think about leaving the temple and heading for the South Pole," he considered after a pensive moment, "You're going to need your family for this."

"_You_ are my family," Katara told him, "Besides, I want to have our baby here." It was only after Katara had made the declaration aloud that she realized how strongly she felt about it. "This is our home, Aang."

"But Katara, you'll need someone to be with you and to help you through the birth," he argued, "I know how to do a lot of things but delivering babies is _not_ one of them. Besides, it's going to get to a point where we won't be able to travel together any longer and I won't always be here. You're going to need more than just me as a support system."

"I have Jinpa and the villagers and I can always send my for my Gran-Gran. She's been lonely since Pakku passed so she'd probably welcome a change in scenery. I know she'd be happy to come here when I'm close to delivering. I won't be alone."

"What about Sokka and Hakoda?"

"What about them?" Katara challenged, "Sokka barely spends any time in the South Pole since he and Suki got engaged. He splits most of his time between Kyoshi Island and the Republic. And you know that my dad is always on the move. There's no reason that they both can't come here when I have the baby."

"And you're sure about this?" Aang pressed anxiously, "You really don't mind having the baby here rather than in the South Pole? I don't want you to feel obligated just because this place holds sentimental value for me."

Katara framed his face in her hands so that she left no doubts in his mind when she nodded without a hint of reserve. "This is what _I_ want, Aang. I want this place to be more than a memorial of the terrible thing that happened here 100 years ago. I want us to build a life here. I want us to raise our family here."

Aang kissed her deeply then, caught somewhere between infinite jubilation and sentimental tears. "Have I ever told you that you are the best thing that has ever happened to me?" he asked gruffly.

She favored him with a tender smile. "That's pretty amazing because _you're_ the best thing that has ever happened to _me_. I love you so much, Aang."

"I love you too."

"Just promise me something," she entreated with urgent fervency, "Promise me that it will always stay like this…that we'll always be each other's best friend no matter what. I know we'll be okay if you promise me."

"Always. I promise, Katara," he vowed, pulling her close for yet another kiss, "For the rest of my life…"

**~End~**


	4. Kernels of Fatherly Wisdom

**Kernels of Fatherly Wisdom**

Aang roused fitfully from his nightmare panting and drenched in a cold, clammy sweat. As soon as he shot upright, however, the memory of exactly what had left him so terrified evaporated in an instant. His overwhelming panic, however, remained. In the aftermath, his first and immediate instinct was to check on Katara.

She remained exactly where she had been earlier that evening when he had kissed her goodnight shortly after they set up camp together, tucked away in her sleeping bag and snuggled against the warmth of Appa's furry girth. Far from the picture of frazzled anxiety which aptly described Aang in that moment, Katara's sleep appeared peaceful and dreamless. She lay on her side with her hands pillowed beneath her cheek, her dark hair falling across her face and shoulders in wild disarray.

He wasn't surprised to find her sleeping so soundly. They still had another two days of traveling before they reached the South Pole and she was likely exhausted. So was he for that matter. The only difference between them was, no matter how hard Aang tried to rest, sleep continued to elude him.

With his heart still knocking crazily against his ribs, Aang stretched out a shaky hand to lightly stroke her cheek before moving lower to caress the rounded swell of her abdomen. Although Katara was already six months into her pregnancy, her belly was still small enough to conceal her condition from those who didn't know her well. Aang kept his hand in place, waiting patiently for the telltale thump of his unborn child beneath his palm. It was only when he felt that quickening that his breathing finally began to even and his heartrate eventually slowed to a normal pace. He expelled a shaky breath with a small smile of relief.

Calmer now but definitely unable to sleep, Aang dismissed the idea of trying altogether and rolled to his feet with a heavy grunt. He made his way to the center of their camp to stoke the low, dying embers of their fire with his bending. As he watched the flames hiss and crackle into renewed life, he contemplated the nightmare that had shaken him from his sleep.

Although, he couldn't remember the details of exactly what happened Aang had very few doubts about where the source of his fear lay. Katara and their unborn baby. That constant, creeping, relentless dread had only recently begun to take up residence in Aang's gut, churning there with daily fervor. No matter what Aang did or how many times he tried to reason with himself, he couldn't shake it. The fear was with him every waking hour of the day and then, without fail, invaded his dreams at night. Suddenly, he was agonizing about things that had never been a thought in his head before.

He didn't want Katara to travel with him anymore. Or rather, he didn't know if she should.

The realization was difficult to reconcile. Never, not in all the time he and Katara had known each other, traveled together, maintained their friendship, _never_ had Aang not wanted her with him. She was his conscience, his rock, his confidante, his very best friend and so much more. She was an extension of his entire identity and he had felt that way about her long before they married. For years, her name had been synonymous with his. Where she went, he would follow and vice versa.

But over the course of the past two weeks, Aang had gradually begun to develop misgivings about the extent of their togetherness. It had taken little more than a minor injury sustained while attempting to quell an insurrection instigated by a group of staunch Firelord Ozai loyalists while they were in route to the Western Air Temple to break that dam of apprehension wide open. And though it had been little more than a superficial shoulder burn that Katara had sustained, which she'd easily healed following the incident, Aang couldn't shake it. For him, that horrifying moment when she had fallen to the ground with a yelp of pain had continued to play out in his mind in a sickening reel long after the moment was passed and the perpetrators punished.

The extent to which it had bothered him actually left Aang a bit unnerved. It wasn't as if it was the first time Katara had ever been injured during a fight or even the first time that she had been in imminent danger. That was the nature of their entire existence, after all, from the time they had been little more than teenagers fighting to end a century's old war until now. Peace, at times, needed to be enforced with a firm hand, especially when dealing with the deep scars that had been left on the world as a result of the war.

Yet, in the past, Aang hadn't worried about her, at least not unduly and certainly not enough to ask her to stay behind or to not fight at all. After all, Katara was far beyond just being a competent waterbender. She was a formidable master and she had spent countless years honing her skill. At just sixteen years old, she had already had the privilege of serving as a waterbending instructor to the newest generation of Southern Waterbenders. Aang had never doubted at all that she could take care of herself. More often than not, _she_ was the one who took care of _him_. Consequently, it had never once entered his mind that she or her pregnancy could possibly be in danger…until now.

In hindsight, Aang cursed himself for his foolishness and naivete for _not_ considering it but, in the beginning, it had been easy to live in denial. Katara remained as strong and capable as ever. She remained his partner and his greatest supporter. On the surface, nothing really had changed. She belonged at his side and he at hers and that was the end of it. And, while he had known on an intellectual level that she was pregnant and found himself excited about the prospect of their baby, the reality of her pregnancy didn't truly sink in for him until he saw her body changing over time.

The gentle rounding of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, the soft, subtle swell of her belly…all of those changes had fascinated him, enthralled him. But the day when he was actually able to feel his child move beneath his hand was the day that it all became starkly real. And while Aang had begun to harbor some concerns at that point, which Katara firmly and easily dismissed, his feelings didn't become cold, unadulterated fear until after that latest skirmish. At that point, Aang knew something had to change.

Unfortunately, his attempts to discuss what that change should be with Katara were often met with stubborn refusal and sometimes outright resentment. What Aang viewed as voicing concern over her wellbeing was taken by Katara as his ostensible lack of confidence in her ability to take care of herself. The altercation with the Ozai loyalists was waved away as a non-incident, one from which she had never faced any real danger. Certainly, if she felt like she was at risk or their child was at risk then she would stay behind. She was a waterbending master, a skilled fighter and she had saved _his_ life more than once. Surely, she was capable of handling herself and maintaining her own safety. _Didn't he trust her judgment at all?_

Aang had heard all of the arguments again and again and he knew he had no chance of winning them. It was clear that Katara wouldn't budge. The more he pushed, the more irritated with him she became until he finally stopped trying to get her to see his viewpoint. Maybe she was right after all. Maybe he _was_ displaying a lack of trust in her judgment. Maybe the fault lay completely with him because he was being ridiculous by making an issue out of a non-issue. Aang really didn't know anymore.

What he _did_ know was that he didn't want to fight with her. And so, in the face of Katara's unyielding stubbornness, his only recourse was to double his efforts to keep her and the baby she carried safe. He knew that Katara wouldn't take any unnecessary risks. That left him to keep vigil for any unexpected contingencies. Surely, it could work if he remained alert to any and every possible danger that might arise. He was a fully realized Avatar after all. If he couldn't be trusted with ensuring Katara's safety then who could?

It seemed like a completely logical and well thought out plan filled with sound reasoning and yet…Aang still couldn't sleep at night.

He was standing there, blindly contemplating the fire and lost in thought when Katara began to stir behind him. He didn't even realize she had awakened until she croaked his name. Aang turned to face her with a forced smile.

"What are you doing up?" she yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"The fire was starting to die out," he replied, "What are _you_ doing up?"

"The baby's kicking like crazy. Feels like she's turning somersaults in there."

Aang grinned and quickly closed the short distance between them to kneel down beside her. He briefly placed his hand on her abdomen to feel the flurry of activity for himself. The rapid succession of thumps and bumps caused his smile to widen considerably. "Yeah, he seems pretty restless tonight."

Katara fixed him with a laughing eyeroll. "I already told you, Aang, we're having a girl," she chided him mildly, "A woman knows these things."

Rather than engage in their usual round of teasing banter about their baby's gender, mainly because his heart wasn't in it right then, Aang conceded the argument by saying, "Well, boy or girl, I'll be happy either way."

He expected that she might settle back into her sleeping bag and drift off once more after that but Katara surprised him when she suddenly announced with wide-eyed clarity, "I'm hungry. Do we have any more of those moon peaches left?"

"We have a couple," Aang replied, already rising to rummage through their knapsack for the requested fruit, "but you might end up on Momo's list if you eat them."

"I'll take my chances. Bring the seal jerky too. I'm starving!"

Normally, he would have made some irreverent joke about her voracious appetite but instead, after bringing her the jerky and peaches, Aang resumed his spot beside her to watch the fire in silence while Katara munched on her late night snack. But while Aang was preoccupied with the leaping flames, Katara was preoccupied with _him_. It was impossible not to the sullen demeanor that hung about him like an oppressive cloak. Aang, however, was unaware that his internal conflict was plainly evident on his face right then. Katara studied his dejected profile in the flickering firelight as she ate, trying to discern the thoughts that might be going on behind his shuttered expression right then. When she couldn't, she decided to ask him directly.

"So what are you _really_ doing up so late?" she queried after swallowing a bite of moon peach, "You're not still stewing about your birthday, are you?"

In just two days, Aang and Katara would join her family and the WaterTribe community in the South Pole for a three day celebration of Aang's twentieth birthday. He had known about the festivities for weeks and had been agonizing over it just as long because he sincerely hated being the center of attention. He didn't mind a party but what had been planned would serve as more of a tribute and that made him uneasy. And, although it was true that he had been anxious ever since he learned the Watertribe planned to honor him in such an ostentatious way, that was the furthest thing from his mind right then. In fact, that problem seemed rather miniscule in comparison to what was plaguing him presently.

"Don't worry," he replied lightly, "I've made my peace with it. I still don't think they needed to go to all of the trouble for me but…I appreciate the gesture. It means a lot to me."

"Well, _you_ mean a lot to my people. They love you, Aang. You are an official tribesman, after all. It's an honor for them to celebrate this milestone with you."

"It's an honor for me too."

Unfortunately, his reassurance failed to put Katara at ease. She might have been mollified by his reply if it weren't for the fact that his expression remained as morose as ever. Whatever was bothering him right then, she realized, it had nothing to do with his birthday. "Okay…" she began slowly, "If you're not nervous about the party then what's bothering you right now?"

"Nothing's bothering me."

"I don't believe you. Tell me what's keeping you awake."

Aang startled guiltily, appalled and a bit irritated by how easily she managed to read him. "I told you. The fire was dying."

It didn't escape Katara's attention that he had failed to meet her eyes when he said the words or that he had begun to fidget as well. It was a sure sign that he was lying through his teeth and she told him as much. When he responded to that with yet more verbal flailing and weak protests to the contrary, Katara set aside her snack and exclaimed with some exasperation, "Oh Aang, you really suck at lying! I know something is going on. It's late and I'm tired. Just tell me already so I can help you!"

"Why does it matter if I say what I'm thinking or not?" he flared back suddenly, "It's not like you're going to listen to a word I say anyway!"

She gaped at him, her hackles rising with his retort because she knew almost instantly why he was upset without needing to prod him further. "Is this about what happened with those Ozai supporters?" she sighed plaintively, "I thought we had moved past that already."

"No. _You_ moved past it, Katara. I've been a wreck!"

"But I didn't get hurt!" she cried, "They barely even singed me!"

"But it _could have_ been more serious than that, Katara. That's the point."

"So now I have to plan my life around morbid could haves? I could also trip on a rock and split my head open," Katara reasoned sarcastically, "Are you going to clear a path for me everywhere I go from now on or would you simply prefer to _wheel_ me around?"

Aang rolled to his feet, his jaw tight with anger and frustration. "Now you're mocking me," he muttered.

"No, I'm not. I'm trying to get you to see how ridiculous you're being!"

"And now I'm ridiculous too! Great!"

"Would you stop being so melodramatic?" she snapped, "Aang, I'm pregnant, not disabled! You can't tuck me away in a box until I have this baby!"

"That's not what I'm proposing!" he yelled.

"Then what _are_ you proposing?" she yelled back.

The resounding echo of their shouts through trees ultimately left him deflated. Aang hunched forward in defeat, realizing right then that he honestly didn't know. He didn't want anything to change between them and yet, at the same time, he couldn't shake the feeling that something _should_ change. He didn't want to leave her behind at all but subjecting her to needless risks just because he couldn't be without her also seemed inherently selfish on his part. Aang told her as much.

"Since when have you ever taken needless risks, Aang?" Katara reasoned in a much gentler tone, "Since when do I?"

"I know you wouldn't gamble with our child's safety, Katara, or your own for that matter. It's not _you_ that I'm worried about. It's the people who might try to hurt you that's the problem!"

"I can take care of myself. You're freaking out over nothing, sweetie."

"It doesn't feel like 'nothing,' Katara. I know it probably doesn't make sense to you. It doesn't make sense to _me_ but…I'm really scared. I'm scared all the time."

Disarmed by the vulnerability trembling in his voice, Katara scooted from her sleeping bag and rose to embrace him from behind. She pressed a warm kiss to his back, just above the ridged flesh of his scar. Aang shuddered. And though his muscles remained bunched and rigid following her affectionate gesture, Aang covered her arms with his own, making clear his desire to have her stay where she was.

"What you're feeling is perfectly natural, you know," she whispered in reassurance, "It's just new father jitters. I get it. I'm scared too."

He relaxed against her a bit and angled a surprised glance down at her. "You are?"

"Of course. Everywhere we go there are people still struggling with the aftermath of the war. And while most people are grateful for what you did and what you're still doing, there are also people out there who don't trust you," Katara considered, "There are some who resent your friendship with Zuko, who hate you for it and want to hurt you, Aang. I think about that every time we have to go away."

"But it's getting better. It's been slow but the world is starting to heal, Katara."

"It is. But that doesn't mean there aren't still attempts on your life from time to time," she argued, "You might be terrified of something happening to me when I'm with you but I'm terrified of something happening to _you_ if I'm _not_."

Aang shifted to face her then, shrugging from her hold as he did so. And although it probably wasn't the wisest idea on his part because he was more preoccupied with making a point rather than acknowledging her point of view, he turned Katara's past argument back around on her. There was that and also the small part of him that was mildly irritated by the idea that she felt he _needed_ her care in the first place.

"So does that mean you don't think _I_ can protect myself?" he countered stiffly, "Is that what you're saying? You don't think I can handle conflict on my own?"

"That's not what I'm saying at all," she denied, caught somewhere between hurt and affront at the accusation in his tone, "Don't put words in my mouth!"

"Well, that's sure how it sounds to me," Aang retorted indignantly, "And if that's the only reason you've been sticking with me this whole time, Katara, you can stop wasting your time! I'm not that same little kid you found in that iceberg! I am a fully realized Avatar now and I don't need you to hold my hand!"

Katara lifted her chin in haughty defiance, the tears glittering in her eyes belying the ice demeanor she tried to convey. "I didn't realize that my efforts to be a supportive wife were so offensive to you, Aang! Don't worry. I'm not interested in going anywhere I'm not wanted!"

They completed the remainder of their journey to the South Pole in relative silence. Beyond careful, clipped exchanges the two hardly spoke at all and, though neither of them would dare admit to it out loud, that was a regretful turn of circumstances for them both. Aang agonized over Katara's apparent belief that he couldn't take care of himself because he was certain that if she believed that then she most definitely didn't have any confidence in his ability to take care of _her_. Meanwhile, Katara tried to reconcile why and when her protective nature had suddenly become so repugnant to Aang and why, after so many years together, her need to nurture him was now unacceptable. Neither of them had the right idea about the other but, unfortunately, they were both far too obstinate to set matters right between them.

By the time they finally reached the South Pole, the tension had escalated to unbearable degrees and both Aang and Katara were eager to put distance between them, if for no other reason than to have some reprieve from the constant friction. The crowd that was waiting to greet them when they arrived was a welcome distraction. After being hugged and kissed by seemingly every member of the Southern WaterTribe, most notably Hakoda, Kanna, Sokka and Suki, Aang and Katara were eventually tugged in opposite directions in everyone's eagerness to catch up on all they had missed.

Not everyone could be present for Aang's party. Toph and Zuko had been unable to make it though they had expressed their love and well wishes. Toph, who generally hated the frozen landscape that defined the South Pole, was busy with her metalbending academy. Zuko, on the other hand, was busy leading his nation. There was that and the unavoidable reality that the Firelord's presence still wasn't overly welcome in the South Pole.

As Suki, Kanna and the other WaterTribe women converged around Katara to fawn over her growing pregnancy and the healthy glow to her skin that had resulted from it, Aang found himself drawn into a circle of warriors bent on talking politics, world events and how the Southern WaterTribe was ultimately affected by both. It was easy for them to forget that they were on the outs with so many people vying for their attention but it wasn't long before they were both directing forlorn looks at each other while the other wasn't looking. Eventually, for Aang, not even the weighty discussion amongst Hakoda's warriors was enough to keep him preoccupied.

When a heated debate broke about among the men about whether or not the Fire Nation could truly be trusted after all that had gone on in the war, Aang seized the opportunity created by the polarized nature of the discussion to quietly slip away from the group. It was easy to do, even though technically much of their argument had revolved around him, because most everyone was yelling and not really paying close attention to him anyway. However, his furtive escape didn't go totally unnoticed by _all_ of the warriors. Both Sokka and Hakoda noted watched Aang's departure with keen eyes.

They had been studying the airbender closely since his and Katara's arrival and, while it might have been missed by the general public, Hakoda and Sokka had immediately sensed the tension radiating from the young couple. Both men felt compelled by familial concern to investigate for possible problems. At the same time, they were also reluctant to stick their noses in where they would most certainly be unwelcome. It was a difficult position but, eventually, both men were spurred into action due to their affection for both Katara _and_ Aang.

When Sokka would have followed after his friend, Hakoda gave a sharp shake of his head, silently indicating to his son that _he_ would go after Aang instead. The WaterTribe chieftain didn't have to go far. Aang stood just on the outskirts of the village, his head tipped back as he contemplated the brilliant, starry sky overhead with a faint, awed smile. Hakoda stepped forward to join him and did the same.

"Sometimes they look so close you can practically reach out and touch them, don't they?" Hakoda remarked in wonder.

"It's incredible," Aang agreed, "This is one of my favorite parts about coming here."

After a few beats of companionable silence, Hakoda said, "I hope you didn't leave because of the men. They're all bluster, you know. They like to hear themselves talk."

"They have a right to be concerned," Aang acknowledged, "The Fire Nation has given the people of this land more reasons to distrust them than most. It's going to take more than seven years to fix that. Besides, I already know they think I'm being naïve to trust Zuko."

"Well, his family _does_ have a history of mental instability…"

Aang bit back a smile at the gentle rebuke in Hakoda's tone. "He's a good person. You can trust him, Hakoda."

"I trust _you_," Hakoda countered, "That's enough." The two exchanged nods of mutual respect and understanding before Hakoda asked, "So, did you come out here to plan your strategy for the penguin sledding race tomorrow? I don't know why you bother. Everybody knows by now that you're a shameless cheater, son."

"What you call cheating, I call _strategy_."

Hakoda grunted out an amused laugh. The reply was typical Aang but, in typical fashion, the merriment didn't quite reach his expressive gray eyes. It didn't take a great deal of intuition to discern that something was bothering Aang but, rather than dive to the heart of it, Hakoda instead attempted to take a more meandering approach. After all, he had gotten to know his genial son-in-law quite well over the last seven years. There was no one better at evading tough subject matter than Aang. He was a master. Hakoda had learned from experience that a direct style never worked with Aang. A sneak attack was always the best means of disarming him.

"Sooo," Hakoda drawled in a deliberately casual tone, "I hear congratulations are in order."

Aang blinked at him. "Congratulations?"

"Sokka tells me that you've already begun the restoration on the Western Air Temple. I'm glad. With all the rebuilding going on since the war ended, it only makes sense that the air temples be included."

"You don't think it's a waste because they're just empty buildings with no real value beyond their history?"

"Is that what _you_ think they are?" Hakoda countered.

Aang shrugged but his laconic gesture was belied by the conflict rolling in the depths of his eyes. "I have this vision for the future but I don't know if I'm being unrealistic," he sighed, "I'm not going to be able to singlehandedly bring back my race and, if I'm _supposed_ to do that, my past lives definitely haven't given me a heads up on _how_."

"Why don't you try thinking small for now," Hakoda suggested, "The temples are a good start. Restore them first and then figure out how you want to use them once that's completed."

"That was my thinking too," Aang replied, "Fortunately, most of the damage done to the Western Air Temple was fairly cosmetic so it won't take much work. I think that it had mostly been evacuated due to its proximity to the Fire Nation and possible knowledge over the impending attack. The Eastern Air Temple will be the _real _challenge since it sustained the most damage."

"That sounds like a massive undertaking for a young newlywed who's barely twenty years old and _the Avatar_ to boot," Hakoda remarked, "Don't you feel like you have enough on your plate?"

"Well, in the case of the air temples…it's _my _culture that I'm hoping to preserve. If I don't take the lead in that then who will?"

"Still, you have to feel like you're burning the candle at both ends. That can't leave a lot of time for you and Katara."

"We manage…mainly because she insists on accompanying me wherever I go."

And there it was, Hakoda noted with shrewd perceptiveness, the mild tone of dissatisfaction that underscored Aang's reply when he mentioned Katara traveling with him. That was the root of Aang's solemnity. Hakoda didn't know why or how serious the matter was but he, at least, knew where to start. Armed with that bit of information, the seasoned WaterTribe chieftain pounced on the unsuspecting airbender like a prowling tigerdillo.

"Does that bother you?" he asked, careful to keep his tone neutral.

"Well, she probably shouldn't be tagging along now that she's pregnant, right?" Aang reasoned, more to himself than to Hakoda right then, "Besides, the only reason she goes with me at all is because she thinks I don't know how to take care of myself."

"Does she think that? That doesn't sound like Katara."

"She thinks that I'm going to be picked off like some hapless koala-sheep if she's not there to protect me!" Aang cried in frustration.

"Did she actually_ say _that to you, Aang?"

"It's _implied_."

"Implied how?"

Aang dropped his head forward with a defeated sigh, ready to spill his guts to Hakoda without ever realizing that he'd been expertly conned into the emotional unburdening. "Katara and I had a fight on our way here," he confessed in a low mumble, "I think that maybe she should stay behind when I leave for missions and she thinks she should come along because she thinks she needs to protect me."

"That's a tough position to be in," Hakoda acknowledged sagely, "You're a busy young man but you're also newly married and expecting a child. It makes sense that Katara would want to spend as much time with you as possible."

"But that's not what it's about!" Aang argued, "Katara just doesn't think I can take care of myself!"

"Really, Aang? You know my daughter better than anyone. Do you _really_ think she feels that way?"

Aang only had to contemplate the question for a millisecond before reaching a conclusion. When he stripped away all of the hurt feelings, misunderstandings and miscommunication the answer was fairly uncomplicated and glaringly obvious. "No. I guess not."

"So what do you think is the likelier possibility?"

"Exactly what you said. That she wants to spend as much time with me as possible," Aang concluded with a self-deprecating sigh.

"Now you're catching on."

"But what about the baby? Shouldn't she…I don't know…maybe take it easy or something?"

"You mean Katara? _My daughter Katara?_ Do you not know who you married, kid?"

"I'm just scared for her. I'm scared for the baby. I've never felt like this before, Hakoda. I don't know what's happening to me."

"Well, now you know how it feels," Hakoda murmured.

"Know how _what_ feels?"

"How it feels to be a father," he replied, clamping his hand onto Aang's shoulder with an affectionate smile, "Suddenly, it hits you what a crazy, dangerous place the world actually is and here you are about to bring this helpless, precious little life right into the middle of all of that. It changes you, son. You'll spend a lot of time being scared. Take it from someone who has been there and done that. It's going to be trial and error from this point onward but, you'll get the hang of it. I have faith you in, Aang."

"Thanks, Hakoda."

After nodding his acknowledgment, Hakoda turned to head back towards the village, having accomplished what he set out to do. "Don't stay out here too long. The party can't start without you."

"I won't," Aang promised.

"And Aang?" he added as the airbender started to turn aside, "Happy birthday, son…and welcome home."

A short time later when Aang returned to the village, the festivities were already well underway and Aang was finally ready to apologize to Katara for his contribution to the discord between them. People were gathered around a large bonfire, laughing and dancing and playing traditional WaterTribe games in a twirling throng of blue, making it difficult for him to spot Katara. In between cordially accepting well wishes from the various attendees, Aang scanned the crowd for a glimpse of her. In the end, however, despite all of his searching, it was Katara who found _him_.

She crept up behind him and blurted, "It's your birthday. I don't want to spend it fighting with you."

Aang swiveled to face her and yanked her close in a grateful hug. "Me either." He didn't care what had prompted her to approach him. All that mattered was that the miserable silent treatment was over. His heart swelled to epic proportions when she snuggled deeper into his embrace. "I hate fighting. These last two days have been awful!"

"Agreed. Let's never do it again."

For the remainder of the night, they danced and ate and recounted endless stories well into the very late evening and early morning. It was only a few hours before dawn was set to break and Katara and Aang were drooping with exhaustion by the time they crawled into their guest tent for the night. But as they readied themselves for bed, Katara was surprised to discover that she wasn't quite ready to fall asleep.

"Now that you've officially left the teen years behind you, how does it feel to be twenty?" she asked Aang as she watched him kick off his shoes.

He paused and pondered the question for a moment. "A lot like nineteen actually. It's kind of disappointing."

Katara burst out laughing, particularly amused over how annoyed he sounded. "Somehow, I'm not surprised to hear you say that," she teased.

"You know, I might just grow a beard," Aang considered randomly when he settled down beside her on the lumpy pallet that would serve as their bed, "What do you think of that?"

He need not have asked, however, Katara's repulsed grimace was answer enough. Still, she drove the point home so there would be absolutely no confusion on his part. "Why would you ever want to do a thing like that?"

"I think it would definitely make me look older, maybe even a little bit distinguished," Aang considered, stroking his naked chin, "Besides, Sokka has a beard. So does your father."

"Yeah, but my father is a man in his forties and Sokka? Well, it looks like some poor animal died on his chin. That's not exactly something to aspire to, Aang." Katara reached up to squish his smoothly shaven cheeks between her hands, an action that caused her husband to groan in mild exasperation. "Besides, look at these adorable cheeks. Why would you want to hide this lovely face behind a scratchy old beard?"

"Now you're just teasing me," he laughed.

"I am not. I love the way you look, Aang. I think you're beautiful just the way you are." The way she was looking at him then and the ardent emphasis in her words gradually shifted the teasing atmosphere between them into a more serious one. "I'm really sorry about earlier," Katara whispered when Aang settled closer, "Sokka helped me to realize that maybe I was being dismissive of your feelings before and that wasn't fair to you."

His eyes flared wide at her admission. "Sokka did that?"

"Well, his exact words were 'why do you have to be such a know-it-all jerk about everything, Katara,'" she recited in her best Sokka impression, "'It doesn't _always_ have to be your way.' But I understood the gist of what he was getting at and…he was right. I can't always be so rigid and insist on my way all the time."

"But I _like_ giving you your way."

"I know you do. I like that you like giving me my way," Katara laughed softly, "Which is why I should have acknowledged how much that whole incident with the Ozai supporters really bothered you…because you _weren't_ willing to give me my way."

"And you came to this conclusion all due to a heart to heart with Sokka?"

"Well that and mostly because I really do hate fighting with you, Aang. I'd rather kiss you instead."

Aang scooted closer, happy to oblige her implicit invitation. However, before Katara could deepen the kiss in the hopes of kissing becoming much more, Aang pulled back to regard her fervently. "I'm sorry too. I was being way too sensitive before when I accused you of being overprotective. I never should have made you feel like you were questioning my judgment or like I don't appreciate you, Katara, because I know you weren't and I _do_ appreciate you. I do not, nor have I ever, had a problem with you watching my back. No one does it better than you."

She nuzzled him sweetly. "Well, it is my life's work…"

"I'm being serious. Truly. Thank you for always watching out for me."

"Stop thanking me. Protecting each other is what we do. And you don't owe me an apology. I get it. After all, I pretty much accused you of the same thing when you brought up the subject of me staying behind, didn't I? But I know that's not true."

"So why don't we trying talking about what _is_ true, Katara," Aang suggested.

"Okay," she agreed in a shaky voice, "The truth is that I don't want us to be apart. The truth is that this is exactly what I've been afraid of since I found out I was pregnant…that everything would change and we would stop being us. The truth is I just want to be wherever you are, Aang. Good or bad." She waited for him to digest all of that before she added with a small, impish smile, "Now it's _your_ turn, airbender."

"The truth is, I'm scared. I don't want anything to happen to you or to our baby and when I think about it…" He trailed off into silence with an emotional swallow, his throat suddenly burning with acrid tears. "You're _everything_ to me, Katara, you and this baby and I…I need you. I don't want to lose you like I…"

"…like you lost your people?" she finished for him gently. He jerked a nod of confirmation. "Aang, you can't live your life in the grip of fear. You're the one who taught me that. The future isn't promised to anyone. The only thing we can do is take life as it comes. But I know, as long as we stay together, everything will work out. It always does."

She punctuated that unwavering conviction with a tender kiss, one that Aang eagerly returned.

**~End~**


	5. The Price of Parenthood

**The Price of Parenthood**

"Did I miss it? Please tell me I'm not too late!"

Aang didn't even bring Appa in for a complete landing before his was alighting from his beloved bison on a winding current of air with anxious, single-minded determination. He barely even registered Toph's grumbling protest behind him about what a "jerk move" he had pulled by "abandoning ship" and leaving the "blind girl" to steer. Under different circumstances, he might have felt a measure of contrition over having forgotten her so easily but, at that precise second, Aang had one destination on his mind and little else mattered. He didn't even acknowledge Sokka, Suki and Hakoda's presence amongst the small group of villagers milling about in the temple courtyard.

In fact, he was already on the ground and sprinting for the temple by the time Appa finally made a grateful landing and immediately collapsed into exhausted slumber. Guessing his intention, Sokka snagged hold of his collar before he could go tearing through the place room by room in a mad search for Katara. Aang attempted to jerk from Sokka's grasp and, when that didn't work, he whipped to face the WaterTribe warrior with an irritated scowl.

"Sokka, I gotta get to Katara. Let me go!"

Sokka was unfazed by Aang's obvious annoyance. In stark contrast with Aang's spastic anxiety he was almost infuriatingly calm, affable even. "Hold your ostrich-horses there, buddy," he drawled, "What's the big rush? They're only just getting Katara settled. Nothing's even happening yet."

"What do you mean 'nothing's happening?'" Aang's frown deepened. "But your note said-,"

"—that you might want to wrap it up with Zuko as soon as possible because Katara _might_ be going into labor," he interjected smoothly, "I didn't say that she was about to drop the kid or anything. Reading skills are fundamental, Aang."

"Is she having the baby or not, Sokka?" Aang demanded irritably.

Hakoda materialized behind the impatient airbender and placed a steadying hand on Aang's shoulder. "The labor has started," he told his son-in-law, "But Katara is still a long way off from anything happening. This is only the beginning. These things can take some time."

"How much time?" Aang wondered.

"Hours and hours," Hakoda replied, "Sometimes _days_ if the baby is stubborn enough." He inclined a meaningful look towards Sokka while Aang balked.

"She might not have the baby for _days_?"

"I'm sure it probably won't be _that_ long," Hakoda reassured him with a laugh, "But you might want to settle yourself in for the long haul, son."

Aang slumped forward with a sigh of unending relief, feeling the fatigue that he had been ignoring for the last few days settle down over him like a heavy shroud. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought for sure I was going to miss it…"

"Well, I wish someone would have clarified that in their note," Toph interjected with clear irritation, having finally managed to make it down from Appa's saddle with Suki's assistance, "Maybe I would have had a decent night's sleep just _once_ in the last few days."

Following the arrival of Sokka's message at the Fire Nation palace, Aang had wasted no time saying goodbye to Zuko even though they had still been in the process of finalizing the Republic City council member choices. While Aang understood that providing a stable government for the newly elected capital was of great importance, being present for the birth of his first child trumped everything. He would _not_ miss it. As a result of that determination, he and Toph had ridden practically nonstop from Zuko's palace to the Southern Air Temple. Neither he nor she nor Appa for that matter had slept very much in the interim and it showed.

As if to emphasize that fact, Suki remarked with some concern, "You two look like you're ready to drop where you stand. Poor Appa is already knocked out."

Toph grunted in displeasure, not surprised to learn that the bison had lost his battle with exhaustion. "That's because Baldy here had us riding at breakneck speed for three days straight," she groused, "He was like a crazy person! I barely had time to _pee_."

"No wonder you got here so fast," Sokka whistled, clearly impressed by the time they made, "I wasn't expecting you guys until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. It's barely noon now. That must have been some serious riding!"

Aang couldn't quite find the reserves in him to preen over the outstanding realization that he had managed to impress Sokka. He was too tired. After finally acknowledging Suki's presence for the first time since his arrival and extending a proper greeting to her, Aang turned his attention to an understandably cranky Toph. "Sorry I put you through so much aggravation, Toph," he mumbled, "I thought Katara was actually _having_ the baby based on Sokka's note and…I was trying not to miss it."

At the point, the aforementioned became aware of the accusing glares being directed at him from both his wife and his father. "Hey, don't look at me!" he burst out defensively, "I only wrote what Katara told me to! You have a problem with the content of my message then take it up with her!"

After directing another longsuffering look of chastisement towards his son, Hakoda suggested to Aang, "Why don't you head inside and see Katara now? We can all catch up after you're done."

Aang needed no further invitation than that and gladly took his leave, eager to see his wife after more than a week a half apart. It was only when he was on his way to his bedroom that Aang began to realize how bustling with activity the air temple really was. Outside there had been a number of people caring for the grounds and the animals while inside there was renovation work going on within what had once been the temple dormitory. He even passed Jinpa on the way, who greeted him with a wide smile and brief hug before telling him to hurry on to Katara because she was waiting for him. As Aang did so, he realized with an inward smile that all his worry about Katara possibly being alone when the baby came had been in vain after all.

He didn't really know what he expected to find when he entered his bedroom, perhaps Katara exhausted and writhing in pain in the center of the bed while an army of mid-wives, led by her capable grandmother, coached her through it. What he found instead was the complete antithesis of what he had imagined. Katara was in the bed but far from being in agony and drenched in perspiration, she was laughing with her grandmother, her long, dark hair loose and falling over her shoulders rich, shining waves. She was dressed in little more than a white, linen nightdress and the covers were pulled high to her waist, concealing much of her rounded belly. To Aang, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld. Without thinking, he breathed out a greeting to her that said something to that effect.

The instant she spotted him in the doorway, Katara's features became wreathed with a bright, ecstatic smile which collapsed into a stunned frown a split second later when she saw how bedraggled he appeared. "Aang, what happened? You look horrible!"

"Now that's the welcome home that every man wants after eleven days of separation from his adoring wife," he teased dryly before closing the distance. He dropped a dutiful peck to Kanna's weathered cheek before leaning forward to do the same with Katara. He gave her a long, lingering kiss before whispering, "Hi, sweetie."

"Hi, sweetie," she whispered back.

"She's right though," Kanna observed bluntly, watching the two young lovers nuzzle each other with unconcealed affection, "You _do_ look horrible, my boy. When's the last time you slept?"

Aang squinted in thought. "Hmm…probably four days ago."

"Four days?" Kanna and Katara exploded simultaneously.

"I left the Fire Nation as soon as I got Sokka's message. I'm pretty sure I'm not Appa's favorite person right now. Or Toph's for that matter. Or Zuko's, now that I think about it," Aang added in afterthought, "since I kind of left in the middle of negotiations with him."

While Kanna clucked in amusement, however, Katara descended into a full-fledged rant. "I specifically told Sokka to let you know that you didn't have to rush!" she fumed, "I told him to be sure that he made you understand that you shouldn't disrupt your schedule! He had _one_ job. My goodness, he's such a blockhead!"

Kanna reached over to stroke Katara's hand in an attempt to soothe her. "Don't work yourself up. It's not good for the baby. Your brother did a good thing. And your husband's here now, so be grateful." After determining that Katara was satisfactorily chastened by her mild rebuke, Kanna rose to her feet with Aang's assistance. "I'll leave you two alone so you can catch up," she said.

After she departed, Katara patted the empty space beside in her invitation to Aang. "Why don't you get in? You look like you're about to drop, Aang."

"I can't do that," he protested, "This is your childbed. Isn't it sacred or something?"

"Would you just get into bed already?" Katara laughed, "There's nothing happening anyway. I stopped having regular contractions two days ago. This is the most boring labor ever!"

"Famous last words," Kanna sang out in amusement from the hallway.

Katara scowled at the amused response while Aang just snickered. "I can't understand how she's so old but her hearing is still so sharp," she muttered to Aang in aside as he crawled into bed.

As if to further prove that point, Kanna called back, "I heard that too, missy."

Once Aang was fully beneath the covers, curled onto his side with his hands pillowed beneath his cheek and a contented smile on his face because he simply couldn't get enough of looking at her, he whispered, "I've missed you, Katara."

She smiled down at him lovingly. "I've missed you too." Aang was just starting to drift off for some much needed sleep when he felt Katara's fingers stroking the prickly stubble that covered his chin. He opened one eye and discovered that she was regarding him with a sardonic, deadpan expression. "What's going on here, airbender?" she asked dryly.

"It's not like I had a lot of time to shave," Aang replied in weak defense.

"So, it's coming off then?"

"Well…I…that is…"

"Aang?" Her tone made it clear that she was unwilling to tolerate any argument to the contrary. Still, he tried.

"But I like it."

"But it's so…so scratchy!" Katara whined, wrinkling her pert nose in distaste, "It makes your face look dirty."

"It will get better once it grows in fully."

"I don't know…"

"Fine," he sighed in concession, "I'll shave it off if that's what you want."

Despite all of her resolve, Katara wasn't invulnerable to his boyish pout. "No. You can keep it if you really want to," she relented with a marked lack of enthusiasm.

"Well, there's really no point if you're repulsed by it," Aang grumped.

"Aww, Aang," she crooned, leaning over to pepper his face with playful kisses, "I could never be repulsed by you."

"Never?" he preened between affectionate smacks.

"Most definitely never…" she laughed, her words muffled against his mouth. Katara gladly yielded to Aang's efforts to tug her closer, deciding somewhat capriciously that maybe she didn't mind his "scratchy" beard so much after all. Though she wouldn't dare admit that to him out loud.

Her intention to coax him into far more serious kissing was thwarted when Kanna suddenly returned with an armful of fresh linens in tow. "That's exactly what got you two into this predicament in the first place," she teased them irreverently when they sprang apart with guilty blushes, "You haven't even had _this_ baby yet and you're already trying to make the next one."

"Don't you have somewhere to be, old woman?" Katara asked but without any real irritation.

Far from taking offense, Kanna quickly put the linens away and then crossed the room to give both Katara and Aang sound kisses to the tops of their heads. "I'll be downstairs," she told them, "Aang, if anything changes, come get me right away."

Aang offered Kanna a sharp salute. "Will do, General Gran-Gran."

After Kanna had taken her leave for a second time and Aang had taken the opportunity to freshen up with the basin of wash water her grandmother had brought in earlier, Katara imagined that, with the possibility for further interruptions being eliminated, Aang would climb back into bed and soon fall into an immediate slumber. He did not. Instead, despite being clearly exhausted, Aang seemed rather content to lie there under the covers and smile up at her adoringly, as if he had not just spent the last 36 to 72 hours without sleep.

Katara shook her head at him in droll exasperation. "You're being weird."

"Can't I look at you? I haven't seen you in eleven days, Katara."

"It's not like I grew a third eye while you were gone."

"But you _are_ still as crabby as ever," he teased, "Good to know _that_ didn't change."

Even though his words lacked any real rebuke Katara still dropped her head forward with a penitent sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated because your daughter is taking her sweet time getting here."

"Hmm…" Aang pondered, torn somewhere between amusement and mild indignation at her reply, "…so it seems that we're set on this baby definitely being a girl and somehow I've become solely responsible for her existence because you're annoyed. Does that cover it?"

"Sounds about right."

Aang bit back an ironic smile. "Okay. Just checking."

Katara scooted down further in the bed so that she and Aang were lying face to face. "Well, since you obviously have no intention of sleeping," she admonished him mildly, "Tell me about your trip."

"Nothing to tell really. The United Republic of Nations now has an official capital. Republic City."

"Wow. How original," Katara deadpanned.

"You're being flippant about it but this is quite a milestone, Katara," Aang chided her, "The URN is well on its way to becoming an established nation in its own right. This is what we've been working towards for the past five years."

"Does that mean you won't have to go away as much?" Katara ventured hopefully.

"I wish," Aang snorted, his disappointment an almost tangible thing, "They've elected me to serve as head of the government council because I'm considered a 'neutral party.' It's supposed to be a compromise since Zuko and Kuei have been barred from serving on the council in any capacity."

"You mean because they might be tempted to serve their own interests as it relates to their respective nations rather than recognizing the URN as its own separate entity?"

"Exactly," Aang replied, "Not that I think either of them would abuse their power that way but I get why people might be leery. They've been engaged in a tug of war over those colonies for so long that I can understand why people wouldn't expect them to be objective."

"And since you're the Avatar with no national interests of your own the citizens think that you're the perfect person to help establish a government there that is completely separate from the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom," Katara concluded glumly.

"Pretty much. There are schools and houses that need to be built, commerce that must be established, social and civic programs to put in place, not to mention some kind of punitive system or judicial branch…there's so much to do," Aang sighed, fairly overwhelmed by the prospect, "The list goes on and on."

Katara gently cupped his cheek, her mouth turned in a sad, commiserative smile. "You're never going to get a break, are you?"

Aang turned his face towards her palm and pressed a tender kiss to its center. "Any time soon? No. Doesn't look like it."

"Well, you definitely need a nap after all of that," she determined, gathering him closer, "We'll take one together."

But while Aang began to snore softly only a few seconds after closing his eyes, Katara remained awake and restless. She wasn't only preoccupied with her impending delivery which was progressing with painful slowness but also with Aang's ever growing list of responsibilities. She couldn't help but feel that he was becoming all things to all people and wondered exactly where that would leave her and their new baby. Katara didn't often find herself resenting Aang's identity as Avatar because she recognized what an incredible privilege he had been given but, just once, she really wished the world would leave him and _her_ by extension alone! She understood that he had a duty to the world but he was _barely_ twenty years old. He deserved to have a life too.

She had hoped that once the in-fighting had ceased over the former Fire Nation colonies that Aang might be afforded with more time for himself. But it seemed that the more established the URN became, the more the citizens of that territory seemed to need Aang's guidance and assistance. In addition to that, Aang still had a duty to the rest of the world and he had also committed himself to rebuilding all of the abandoned air temples to their former glory. He wanted to provide present and future air acolytes with the opportunity to learn and flourish in a historical environment. And, though he never said so out loud, she knew he wanted to make a haven for any possible future race of airbenders as well. How was he supposed to make time to be a husband and a father after all of that, Katara wondered. And was it too unrealistic on her part to expect him to try?

Katara fell into a fitful sleep without ever finding an answer to that complex question. When she next awakened dusk was beginning to make its ocher approach on the horizon, making it clear that she and Aang had been asleep for many hours. Katara started to nudge him awake when she was abruptly seized by a throbbing ache so sharp and intense in her lower back that she actually arched her body and moaned aloud. Although she bit her lip in an effort to stifle her whimpers as the pain intensified, it was still enough to rouse Aang from slumber.

He blinked at her with bleary eyes, his brow knit in concern. "What's wrong?" he asked when he noted her tight grimace, "Are you hurting?"

"My back feels like it's in the middle of a muscle spasm," she ground out, "Yeah, it hurts!"

Aang scrambled upright, all vestiges of sleep cleared in an instant. "Is that normal?"

"How I should I know? I've never had a baby before!"

"Do you want me to get Kanna?" He was already half out of the bed before she answered with an emphatic, "Yes!"

After that, everything seemed to happen around Aang in a dizzying blur. One minute he was alerting Kanna that Katara needed her and the next minute their bedroom was alive with activity, suddenly filled with a half dozen women including Suki and he was being ushered out. Left with little choice, he cooled his heels in the darkened corridor with an equally anxious Hakoda and Sokka to keep him company. To Aang, it felt like he had been waiting for an eternity before Kanna finally popped her head out.

"The contractions are still pretty far apart but regular and very strong," she said.

"What does that even mean?" Aang asked a little impatiently.

"It means you're going to be a father," Kanna replied in a mild tone. If anything, the response increased Aang's nervous apprehension tenfold rather than relieving it. But when he started to shrug past Kanna to reenter the bedroom, she resolutely blocked his path. "Stay out here," she ordered brusquely, "I'll send for you when the time comes."

"What are you talking about? I can't stay out here. Katara needs me!"

"There's nothing you can do for her in there, Aang," Kanna said, "This is woman's work. You'll only be a distraction. Let Katara do what she must."

Aang briefly considered pushing his way past her despite the edict but prudently thought better of it. Katara's grandmother couldn't have been more than one and twenty pounds soaking wet, was little more than half his height and was stooped and fragile with old age but Aang had few doubts in that moment that Kanna would gladly take him on if he tried to move past her again. After a tense, few seconds he wisely took a step back.

"She'll be fine," Kanna reassured him before she disappeared back into the bedroom, "I'll update you in a few hours."

He would have probably stood there, staring at the closed door until those few hours had passed if Hakoda and Sokka hadn't gently but firmly coaxed him away. And though it took a fair amount of effort, Hakoda managed to convince Aang to accompany them back down to the courtyard rather than loitering in one of the empty rooms nearby because he knew that once the _real _labor started Aang wouldn't be able to tolerate hearing Katara's cries of pain. Yet, even far removed from the action, Aang remained restless. He paced the length of the temple courtyard in agitated circles.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" he lamented.

"Now we wait," Hakoda answered. He paused to produce an oblong, sealskin canteen from the inner flaps of his tunic. "And we drink." He took a long draught from the flask before passing it to his son.

Aang spared his father-in-law with a cursory glance. "Thanks, Hakoda, but I don't drink. The monks always taught us that alcohol blurs the path to spiritual enlightenment and I want my mind to be clear for this."

"We'll see if you still feel that way in a few hours," Hakoda predicted wryly before taking another drink.

"Well, if Twinkle Toes isn't interested in taking you up on that drink, Hakoda," Toph said as she emerged from the shadows, "I'm more than game."

"What are you doing down here?" Sokka asked in surprise, "I thought you'd be upstairs with all the other womenfolk."

Toph helped herself to several large pulls from Hakoda's canteen before she answered, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Really, Sokka? Have I ever given you the impression in all the years you've known me that I am remotely interested in the birthing process?"

"Eh, I guess you have a point."

"The only reason I'm down here is because getting some sleep is next to impossible with all the moaning and groaning going on up there." Toph realized her error in speaking so forthrightly only a second before Aang was making an all-out sprint back towards the temple.

Hakoda was quick to block him. "You heard what my mother told you before," he warned, "You don't want to cross her, son. She might be an old lady but she can hold her own."

"Didn't you hear what Toph said? Katara's in pain. I can't just stand here and do nothing!"

"So you want to go stand up there and do nothing?" Sokka reasoned before his father could reply, "Because whether you're down here or up there, Aang, the end result is going to be the same. And since there's nothing you can do to help her, the least you can do is stay down here with us and keep out of the way."

Clearly dissatisfied with that prospect but having few options to the contrary, Aang sank down onto a nearby rock and buried his face in his hands. A moment later he felt a nudge against his shoulder. When he glanced up, he found Hakoda standing there, his waterskin extended in invitation. "You sure you don't want a drink?"

Aang eyed the canteen with the barest, briefest hint of longing before shaking his head. "No. I'm fine. I want to keep my senses clear."

Four hours later he was severely regretting that decision. As Katara's labor strengthened so did her plaintive cries. By now her serrated moans of pain were plainly audible in the courtyard and echoed out across the night with increasing frequency. With each one, Aang felt like he was dying a little.

"We're never doing this again," Aang mumbled to himself, "Never doing this again."

Hakoda chuckled at his resolve. "I remember saying the same thing when Kya was in labor with Sokka," he recalled fondly, "It was the worst eighteen hours of my life. I can still remember how helpless I felt and I remember thinking, 'I'm never putting her through this again.'" He laughed to himself. "We see how well that worked out."

While Sokka and Toph laughed at the wry observation, Aang didn't have the heart. He was too focused on the disclosure that it had taken Sokka nearly an _entire day_ to be born. "Did it really take eighteen hours?" Aang asked with mounting dread.

"Just about," Hakoda said, "Kya went into labor after sunset the day before and gave birth to him a few hours before sunset the next day."

"That sounds horrible," Toph uttered after another round of Katara's screams punctured the night, "Why would any woman willingly put herself through this? I don't care how good the se-,"

"Toph!" Sokka cried, with a meaningful and furtive nod towards his father, "Watch your language! There are _parents_ present!"

She shrugged her shoulders with a sheepish smile. "Oh. Sorry, Hakoda."

Aang stared up at the temple mournfully, his eyes locked on his open bedroom window. "Will it be like this every time?" he wondered aloud.

Despite all his insistence to the contrary, he seriously doubted that this would be the last time he and Katara had a child. Even if he was content to have only one, Katara would most certainly want more. It was in her nature to nurture. What Aang didn't know was if he could endure this endless waiting while she writhed in pain yet again.

"Second babies come faster," Hakoda assured him, "I think Katara was born in less than eight hours."

Unfortunately, Aang was hardly comforted by that reassurance. In his opinion, even eight hours was much too long for this kind of torture. He regarded Hakoda with a woebegone look. "I think I'll take that drink now."

Aang was markedly more relaxed and even a bit jovial when Suki finally came out to join them a few hours later. The moment he spotted her, however, he staggered to his feet, poised to pelt her with a dozen questions. The only reason he hesitated briefly in doing so was because her haggard, beleaguered appearance did not bode good news.

"How is she?" he asked Suki anxiously as he, Sokka, Hakoda and Toph converged all around her, "Is everything okay?"

"Kanna says that the baby is starting to 'come down,' whatever that means," Suki replied, "and that she thinks it will only be a few hours more before Katara gives birth."

Aang's relief at the news was a palpable thing. "Really? Thank goodness! I don't know if I could stand another day of this!"

Suki wisely refrained from pointing out to Aang that his suffering was nowhere near Katara's right then because she recognized how worried he was. Besides that, she was wrestling with her own fear raising demons at the moment and didn't have much reserves left in her to offer comfort to him. With a tired sigh, she loped to the nearest boulder and collapsed down onto it with a shudder.

"Kanna seems to think that Katara did most of her laboring while she was sleeping," she explained, "and that's the reason she's progressing so quickly. It's definitely a blessing."

Sokka smoothed back her hair and pressed an affectionate kiss to the top of her head, his forehead creased with a concerned frown. "Are you okay?" he asked her, "You look like you've been through a war."

"It was getting pretty intense in there," she said, clearly shaken, "I needed a breather."

Toph snorted, inclined to think that Suki was being melodramatic in that moment. "_You_ needed a breather?" she scoffed, "Katara's the one having a baby so imagine how _she_ must feel!"

There was something about Sokka and Suki's mutually stricken expressions that caught both Hakoda and Aang's immediate attention. It was easy to discern the reason for their dismay as well. The truth was expressed in the rigidity of their body language and the way they clutched each other's hands for dear life.

Finally, after studying them both for a few pensive beats, Hakoda asked softly, "How far along are you, Suki?"

After registering disbelief at having their secret uncovered so easily, Suki and Sokka dropped their eyes simultaneously as Suki answered softly, "About four months or so."

Aang was the first to recover from his shock. "That's fantastic, you guys!" he exploded jubilantly, already moving in for congratulatory hugs, "This is the greatest day ever! I'm going to be a father _and_ an uncle! Why didn't you say anything before now?"

"We were trying to wait until after Katara had the baby," Sokka explained, "We didn't want to steal you guys' thunder."

Hakoda grabbed a fistful of his son's tunic and yanked him close for fierce, fatherly embrace. "You and your sister are bound and determined to make me feel like an old man, aren't you?" he whispered gruffly, "Congratulations, son. I'm so proud. All of you…you make me so proud."

Toph was the last to fully assimilate the news and, once she had, her response was less than gracious. "Wait a minute. What are we talking about here? Suki? You're pregnant?"

"Yeah, Toph," the aforementioned confirmed, smiling up at her husband, "Sokka and I are going to have a baby."

"What? Arrgh! Nooooo!" Toph cried plaintively, "No! Not again! Why do you guys keep doing _this_? Our team is falling apart!"

Sokka responded to that with a longsuffering eyeroll. "Toph, can't you offer congratulations like a normal person?"

"What's to congratulate, Sokka?" she snapped with dripping sarcasm, "Everything is ruined! How are we supposed to fight the bad guys if _everybody is dragging around babies_? This is ridiculous!"

Aang placed what he meant to be a calming hand on her shoulder. "Toph, don't you think you're being a little dramatic right now?"

She shrugged him off before whipping around in Aang's direction and leveling him with a wrathful, accusatory finger. "And _you_!" she hissed, "This is all _your_ fault, Twinkle Toes! You just had to go and knock Katara up, didn't you? Now look what's happened! It's spreading like some kind of virus!"

"Toph, it's fine," Suki soothed mildly, "I mean, it's not fine because now I realize the whole experience is actually pure agony and it's too late to change my mind about it now but… It's fine. It's perfectly fine." Yet another of Katara's wails of pain pierced the darkness anew, stunning them all into renewed silence. "Yep. Yep," Suki insisted with a shaky breath, "it is _totally_ fine."

Hours later, they were all dozing in the courtyard when Jinpa nudged Aang awake a little after dawn. He blinked up at her in the filtering sunlight. "It's time," she told him, "Katara's asking for you."

Eighteen hours earlier when Aang had walked into his bedroom he had been expecting to find Katara in the throes of childbirth. Now that it was finally happening, Aang realized that nothing in his imagination had prepared him for the reality. Gone were the glossy, boundless waves of Katara's hair and her serene, welcoming smile. Now her hair hung about her perspiring and grimacing face in sweaty, tangled tendrils. In fact, her entire body, which was being held upright in a squatted position by two women flanking her right and left side, was drenched in sweat. Her linen nightgown, which had been so pristine and perfectly arranged before, was now bunched up above her waist, hanging haphazardly off of one shoulder and plastered to her body like a second skin. Aang suddenly had the undeniable urge to back right on out of there.

The instant he would have attempted his getaway, however, was the instant Katara glanced up and locked her desperate eyes with his. "Aang! Thank goodness you're here! I need you!"

Her relief at seeing him and her mournful cry was all that was needed to dispel Aang's brief compulsion to run. He quickly closed the distance between them and nudged the woman at her right aside so that he could gather his agonized into his arms. Katara started to cry, clearly beyond exhaustion.

"It's okay. It's okay," he soothed, "I'm here, Katara. I'm right here."

"I can't do this anymore," she wept, her blue eyes wide and wild as she shook her head, "It hurts _so_ much and I'm tired. I changed my mind. I want to quit. Tell Gran-Gran I want to quit!"

Far from being the bastion of logic and reason that his wife needed right then and gently explaining to her that quitting certainly wasn't an option for her right then and, quite honestly, never had been, Aang looked Kanna squarely in the eye and declared with implacable authority, "You heard her. We've changed our mind. She doesn't want to do it anymore. We quit."

Understandably, Kanna crowed a laugh at that, as did every other woman present in that room. "I'm afraid it's too late for that, dear boy," Kanna told him mildly, "So I suggest you hold your wife's hand and keep her in position because this baby is coming."

And that, it seemed, was that. Left with little alternative in the matter, Aang did as he was told. He held Katara's hand and tried not to writhe and squirm right along with her as her body contorted and arched and performed the incredible feat of bringing new life into the world. He was sure that every sustained cry of anguish was going to rip him into pieces but when Katara pushed for the final time and their child was, at last, expelled into Kanna's capable hands, Aang had never felt such relief.

Katara collapsed back into his arms with tired tears and relieved laughter as Kanna placed the squalling bundle into her arms. "Congratulations, my sweet girl," she whispered in trembling affection, "You have a daughter."

For Katara, in that instant, she, Aang and their new baby were the only ones present in the room. "Did you hear that, Aang?" she breathed, barely able to tear her eyes from the baby's face to direct an awestruck look up at her weeping husband, "We have a daughter."

It was an unnecessary observation. Aang was already well aware. His eyes were roaming his daughter's tiny, wizened features and taking in every minute detail from her extraordinarily delicate features so reminiscent of his wife to her silken tufts of dark, curly hair. He stroked a single finger against his daughter's downy palm, his heart swelling to ten times its normal size when her fist closed around it tightly.

"We have a daughter," he uttered in the same awestruck tone as Katara's, "…She's so beautiful."

"You're not disappointed?"

"Of course not," he half laughed, half sobbed in between grateful kisses, "Never. I love her already. I love _you_."

Soon the room began to gradually fill with the members of their family, all vying for their chance to offer tearful congratulations and cradle the newest addition to their family. Even Toph was atypically sentimental as she carefully held the baby in her arms and gently skimmed the shape of her tiny features with her fingertips. "How does she look?" she asked those present, "Because she _feels_ squishy…"

"Yeah, well she looks squishy too," Sokka offered, only to receive an elbow to the gut from his wife for his trouble. He nursed his injured ribcage with a pout. "Well, she does…"

Hakoda gently liberated his granddaughter from Toph's arms, anxious to have his turn. "Have you two thought of a name for her yet?"

Katara and Aang exchanged a knowing smile of unspoken agreement before Katara answered softly, "Kya. We're calling her Kya. After Mom."

Several hours later, most everyone present collectively retired to their beds for some much needed rest. After being alive with bustling activity for the better part of a day and a half, the temple was blessedly silent. With their newborn daughter settled and sleeping, no one found themselves more exhausted than Aang and Katara. Once Kya was safely ensconced in the bassinet that had been so lovingly fashioned for her by her Uncle Sokka and they had both cleaned up a bit, the two of them quickly curled into bed and fell into a dreamless sleep soon after.

Sometime during that afternoon, Katara was awakened by the intense and undeniable need to hold her child. Unfortunately, when she rolled over in bed to reach for Kya and snuggle her close, she discovered that Aang had apparently had the same idea. He stood at their bedroom window with the baby cradled against his bare chest, bathed in the glow of the early evening sun as he whispered sweet, soothing words of endearment into Kya's downy hair. The expression on his face right then could only be described as pure, unadulterated devotion and Katara knew in that moment that all her fears from the past ten months had come to fruition after all.

Everything _had_ changed. No longer did she have the distinction and unique privilege of being first and only in Aang's heart. Now she had to share that valuable space with someone else.

And yet, as Katara climbed from the bed and inched over to join her family at the window, she realized that she didn't mind the change in the least.

**~End~**


	6. Those Adulthood Blues

**Those Adulthood Blues**

"Aang, I don't think I can do this anymore."

Every muscle in Aang's body went rigid with tension following Katara's grim pronouncement. Really, he had been on edge since the moment he became aware of her approach, but the words certainly hadn't helped. Her declaration wasn't exactly a surprise to him. He had expecting such a response, _dreading_ it really, for a number of days now. In all honesty, the moment had possibly been _years_ in the making, a culmination of trivial, seemingly insignificant events that had somehow snowballed into something too big to ignore any longer. He had known that it would only be a matter of time before Katara finally reached her breaking point. And yet, hearing the actual words out loud was like a physical blow to the gut. He actually felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. His chest ached with the pain of it.

_How could it not when everything in his life was about to change?_

Twenty-eight wonderful, unpredictable, incredible, complication filled months had passed since Kya's birth and he and Katara had undergone an incredible kind of metamorphosis in that passage of time, transforming from carefree young adults to responsible parents. In many ways they were still those young, unconstrained lovers who adored one another deeply but that abandon was now tempered by the affection and accountability they felt towards their two year old daughter whom they loved to distraction. They were a family unit now and the three of them had experienced many milestones together in that time. Much of it had been ideal, almost _too_ perfect at some points but there was no denying that a portion of it had been bittersweet as well.

The first twelve months of Kya's life had fallen quite easily into that idyllic pattern of things. She hadn't been an especially fussy baby. Though she had a propensity towards resisting sleep in those very early months for the most part she was quiet and inquisitive with an altogether genial personality that was reminiscent of her father's. She was easily entertained and could find joy in the simplest of pleasures. Many a day she had spent strapped in a harness to her mother's torso, perfectly content to go along for the ride as an active Aang and Katara bustled from one place to another for days on end.

Under the tutelage of her devoted parents and in between those countless side trips, unavoidable missions, relief and reconstruction projects, impromptu family vacations and unexpected adventures, Kya flourished but she wasn't the only one. So did Aang and Katara. They each had a ringside seat to the other's evolution as a parent and, while that had inevitably caused the love between them to soar to new heights as they gained a newfound and deepening respect for one another, it also created a bit of friction between them.

Together, they watched in awe as Kya transformed from a tiny, helpless newborn to a robust, mobile and sometimes delightfully stubborn toddler. Along the way, they read her bedtime stories, sang silly songs, showed her the unbridled freedom that can only be experienced on the back of a sky bison and taught her what it meant to love beyond reason. And she, in turn, taught them the same.

In those early days, they had been busy with a challenging schedule that had included establishing a city, peacekeeping missions, restoring the ancient air temples, spending much needed time with family and friends _and_ raising a child but Aang and Katara had weathered all of that with relative ease. While they were often tired and travel weary on some days, being together always made that transient discomfort easier to bear. Somehow, they still managed to carve out time for themselves as a couple, even if that meant sneaking outside of their tent in the small hours of the night after their baby was finally, _thankfully_ asleep for hushed conversation, much needed cuddles or, as was sometimes the case, a quiet session of hasty lovemaking.

In the meantime, Kya stumbled her way through baby babble to speak her first real words, those ironically being, "Appa, yip yip," though in truth it had sounded more like, "Abba, yib, yib." Her parents, nonetheless, had been thrilled. It would be another month before she finally yielded to their ardent efforts to coax forth a "mama" or "dada" from her. And, of course, that hard won fight had made the first time she said those words even sweeter.

She had surprised her unprepared parents with her quick mastery of crawling, regularly keeping them on their toes in their effort to keep up with her and her constant stalking of Momo. But when she took those first tottering, uncoordinated steps unassisted by her parents, Kya _really_ began to explore her surrounding world and the stress that her brand new mobility caused her parents also spread to Appa. For months on end, she had Aang, Katara and a harried sky bison chased Kya wherever her little legs could carry her. It was during that period of growing autonomy that the toddler (and her parents) unwittingly discovered her hidden talent for waterbending.

Aang thought back to that day now with a bittersweet smile. In hindsight, he realized that had been that moment when the perfect existence that he and Katara had carved out for themselves had slowly begun to erode, though neither of them had known that at the time. At the time, they had been ecstatic, amazed and only slightly grieved to learn that Kya was a Southern waterbender.

He remembered that day with extreme clarity. They had been picnicking together near a stream, having reached a midway point in their journey back to the Southern Air Temple. After lunch, the three of them loitered at the water's edge for a few hours while Aang amused his daughter and wife with silly antics and airbending feats. At some point, a giggling Kya began clapping exuberantly at her father's ability to create a whirling cyclone of leaves when, suddenly, the waters of the nearby stream began to bob and bend in tandem with her happy gesture. Aang and Katara had been frozen in stunned silence while Kya remained blissfully unaware of the chaotic explosion of emotion that she had just provoked.

_"__Katara, she's waterbending! She's waterbending!"_

_"__I know! I can't believe it! Aang, our baby can waterbend!"_

For those first, few incredible moments there was only joy and laughter and happy tears. The disappointing realization that Aang still remained the last of his kind had come a split second later. Any hope that they had placed on Kya as a possible progenitor of a future race of airbenders died in that instant. They mourned the loss of what could have been very briefly before they put it away and, instead, chose to celebrate everything that their daughter was. And in both of their eyes, Kya was nothing less than perfect.

After that, attention understandably shifted to providing Kya with formal training to hone her skill. However, at the time, the undertaking hadn't seemed like too pressing a matter. Kya was still rather young after all. She wasn't even potty trained at the time so becoming a master at waterbending seemed to be a long way off. Unfortunately, a subsequent visit to the South Pole later that same year had given them an unwanted dose of reality.

Katara's grandmother had been fairly disapproving of the nomadic lifestyle they had been living since Kya's birth. In Kanna's opinion, a child needed structure and stability, not to be "flitting from one corner of the globe to the next on a whim." Her opinions on the subject had only become stronger when she learned that Kya had begun manifesting skill as a waterbender. In her estimation then, the most practical place for Kya to be was in the South Pole, surrounded by her native element. While Aang had been wholly dismissive of the idea, especially because he had little problem with how they were raising Kya since _he_ had been raised under similar circumstances, Katara had been swayed by her grandmother's arguments.

_"__Maybe she's right. Maybe Kya does need stability."_

_"__She has stability. She has us."_

_"__Aang, we can't just ignore what my Gran-Gran said. She's already successfully raised a son and two grandchildren. I'm sure she knows better than us."_

_"__No offense to your grandmother, Katara, but __**we**__ know what's best for our daughter. We're giving Kya a good life. That's all that matters."_

Despite Aang's firm resolve, however, the subject had remained a bone of contention between him and Katara and the more they discussed it, the more their opinions on the matter seemed to diverge. Finally, as a way of compromise, Aang had suggested that perhaps they could leave Kya with Kanna when they went away on their more lengthy trips. That solution had lasted little longer than a few weeks because, for Katara, it had been too reminiscent of her own childhood when her father would spend long stretches of time away from home. She had hated being forced to grow up without him and she didn't want to do the same thing to her own child.

In addition that, she and Aang had hated being separated from their little girl. They had missed her fiercely whenever they were away from her, which had only resulted in a miserable experience. And so, that solution had been nixed only a short while after it was implemented and they went back to doing what they had done before. They became a unit of three but, despite being together like they wanted, those lingering disagreements about what sort of childrearing Kya needed began to resurface all over again.

That strife was only heightened when Aang and Katara's very different parenting styles began to routinely conflict. As Kya grew older, Katara began to stress the importance of a schedule and she tended to be very regimented about meal times, bath times and bed times. But, most of all, Katara was especially focused on sharpening her daughter's skills as a waterbender. It was especially important to her because the family didn't always find themselves in an area abundant with her and Kya's native element so she had to seize the opportunities to teach Kya when they arose. For Katara, there was a time to play and a time to be focused and, even at an early age, she wanted to instill that value in her daughter.

Aang, on the other hand, tended to be a lot less strict in his parenting style, mainly because he proved to be ineffectual at resisting Kya's big, blue eyes and wide, innocent smile. He melted every time. Consequently, when his little girl resisted falling asleep at night, he didn't enforce bedtime rules. Instead, he often played games with her well into the night. If she didn't want to eat a particular thing for dinner, he was happy to provide a tasty alternative. If she wanted to walk barefoot a meadow and count butterflies rather than practicing her waterbending forms then he was her willing companion. In his eyes, she was still young and therefore there was _always_ time to play. Those fundamentally different approaches inevitably became a sore subject between Aang and Katara.

_"__You can't just be her friend, Aang. You're her father. You have to discipline her. She can't have her way all the time. You're spoiling her."_

_"__She's two years old! She could use a bit of spoiling for now. Let her be a kid, Katara."_

As their bickering increased, the hardships of camping out and constant travel only worsened matters. There had been miserable nights exposed to the elements, various altercations on the road with unsavory characters and overnight stays at questionable establishments to contend with as well. Truly, the circumstances weren't entirely different from what Aang and Katara had experienced while traveling through the Earth Kingdom territory as children but while Aang continued to relish living that particular lifestyle, it inevitably began to wear thin with Katara. As more and more time passed, she found herself missing the air temple and the sense of permanence it offered.

Unfortunately, with Aang's schedule as chaotic as ever, they were afforded very little time to spend there. Eventually even their trips to the South Pole became infrequent as well, which only served to heighten Katara's frustration. A strange sort of distance began to form between her and Aang, one that grew harder and harder to bridge as more time progressed. Aang had known on some level that his marriage was in trouble or, at the very least, had hit a serious rough patch but it wasn't until Katara and Kya were accosted by an itinerant, earthbending thief that he understood how much damage had been done.

The day had started as any other. Aang and Katara had stopped for the evening to set up camp. Due to the mounting tension between them, conversation had dwindled down to little more than perfunctory exchanges. They interacted only when it involved their daughter but, by the evening time, they usually slept in different spaces, with Aang outside with Appa while Katara and Kya took the tent.

It had been under those stressful circumstances that Katara announced that she was taking Kya to go off in search for water. Because they were barely speaking, Aang didn't think to protest but instead remained behind to set up camp. All the while, however, he had been hoping that Katara would invite him to join them and Katara, in turn, had been hoping he would ask her to stay.

Once it was clear that she wasn't going to get her wish, Katara turned her attention to her daughter. She had hoped to give a toddler a much needed bath before darkness fell and, perhaps, get in a bit of water play in the process. It had been while she was reveling in her daughter's childish giggles as she bent Kya back and forth on the water's current that the man made his approach. At first, his sole aim had been robbery. He'd meant to take whatever valuables Katara had and move on from but Katara's beauty and seemingly vulnerable circumstances had spurned a more sinister compulsion.

As an exceptionally capable waterbender who had sparred with the likes of Toph Beifong, Katara had deftly held her own against the man's advances and his earthbending attacks. But when he attempted to target her innocent daughter in his efforts to subdue her…that was the first time Katara felt stark, cold fear. It didn't take long for Aang and Appa to be alerted to Katara's terrified screams for help and he managed to intervene before any real, physical harm had been done but the psychological blow had already been dealt. Even after the man had been rendered incapacitated by Aang and had been taken into custody by the local authorities, Katara remained livid and that fury had invariably spilled over to her husband.

_"__This is what I've been trying to tell you this entire time! This is no life for a child!"_

_"__Katara, I know you're upset about what happened. I am too. But…you're okay. Kya's okay."_

_"__This time she's okay! What about the next time, Aang? Do you know how helpless I felt today? What if she had been hurt? I couldn't have lived with that! Could you?"_

_"__There won't be a next time. I never should have let you and Kya go off on your own. That was stupid. It's my fault for not protecting you."_

_'__You're right, Aang! It __**is**__ your fault."_

That argument had proven to be a crossroads in their relationship, not because Aang blamed himself for what happened but because it was clear that _Katara_ blamed him too. Afterwards, she tried to apologize, to explain that she had spoken thoughtlessly due to her fragile emotional state but the killing blow had already been delivered. Aang had been waiting for the figurative death to follow ever since. Which was why, when Katara left Kya sleeping in Appa's saddle with Momo as guard, and climbed down to join him on the ground he had known that he wouldn't like what she was about to say. And he had been right.

Rather than answer her right away, Aang walked over to a nearby dead tree log and sat down. He didn't even look at her when he said with as much dignity as he could muster, "So what are you saying? You want to end our marriage or something?" Though his outward façade remained relatively composed, the words sounded as if they had been wrenched from his chest.

Katara's response to that was swift and vehement. She went to kneel before him and gathered his hands up in her own. "No! Of course not, Aang!" He slumped forward, rapidly blinking back the relieved tears that suddenly gathered in his eyes. Katara regarded him with a mixture of sorrow, longing and regret. "Is that what you thought this whole time?"

Aang shrugged. "It's not like I've been your favorite person lately."

"It's not like I've been _yours_ either," she countered in a mumble.

"I'm not angry with you, Katara," he refuted stiffly, "but it sure feels like _you're_ angry with _me_."

At that point, Katara's shoulders stooped in defeat as well. She pushed herself upright and settled into the empty space beside him on the log. "I'm not angry with you. I love you, Aang. I'm just…I'm frustrated."

"With the situation in general or with me?"

"With everything," she sighed wearily, "I thought by now things would be different for us. That maybe we wouldn't have to travel so much, that maybe the world wouldn't need you so much but…"

Aang regarded her solemnly, his expression shuttered with guilt. "…I have a responsibility, Katara," he reminded her, "You knew that when you married me. I didn't ask for it but, I can't change who I am."

"I know that. And _I _chose that, Aang. I chose this life with you. Kya didn't."

He couldn't refute the veracity in her words even though he tried to close his heart to them. "I know what happened the other day was awful but… Does she seems unhappy to you, Katara?" he argued, "Really?"

"No, she doesn't," Katara conceded, "Why would she be unhappy? She has everything she could possibly want, doting parents, a pet lemur she adores and a magical, flying bison that loves and protects her like she was his own calf! She's living out a two year old's fantasy right now but this isn't the life for her, Aang."

"How can this not be the life for her? It's the same life I lived. The same one _you_ did! Why isn't it good enough for our daughter?"

"Because now I'm looking at it through the eyes of a mother and not a teenage girl who's falling in love with you."

Aang expelled a shuddering sigh. "So what are you saying?"

Katara stiffened her spine and pressed her fists into her lap, taking a deep, fortifying breath in preparation of what she was about to say next. "I want to take Kya home."

Far from being the bombshell that Katara expected, her dramatic declaration was met with a blank stare of confusion from Aang. He blinked at her. "Uh…is…isn't that what we're doing right now?" he asked carefully, "The Southern Air Temple is literally hours away."

"I meant _permanently_," Katara clarified, "I…I don't think Kya and I should travel with you anymore."

"What?"

"I want to raise her in a stable home. I want her to have a routine. I want to provide her with a structured environment so I can teach her waterbending. I don't think she can reach her full potential this way."

"You and I learned to waterbend under the same circumstances," he argued.

"Because we had too! Because it was life and death and there was no other option! But Kya has the luxury of learning during a time of relative peace. Doesn't she deserve the best possible learning environment that we can provide for her?"

"You want to take her to the South Pole, don't you?"

Her gaze flittered away but not before he glimpsed the guilt lurking there. "Yes."

"So, you're leaving me, is that it?" he determined brusquely, his sadness suddenly replaced with indignation, "You're _leaving_ and you're taking my daughter away from me!"

"No, Aang! That's not my intention at all! You're making this about us and it's not about us!"

"What else would you call it, Katara?" he demanded, "We haven't been getting along. We just had the worst fight of our entire marriage two days ago and now you're telling me that you want to take Kya and go live in the South Pole! It sure _sounds_ like you're leaving me!"

"That's not what I'm trying to do." But Katara knew that her denial was falling on deaf ears and, honestly, she didn't blame him for feeling blindsided. There had been so little conversation between them lately that how could he have possibly known this moment was coming. Still, she made an effort to reassure him even when she suspected the gesture was futile.

When he refused to look at her after she said his name, Katara reached over to lay her hand against his forearm. He stiffened at the contact but did not pull away from her touch. She maintained the contact until he finally met her eyes. "I don't want to leave you," she told him softly, "I love you so much and I want to stay with you but…this isn't working anymore. You know it's not working."

"You're the one who said you wanted us to stay together," he reminded her stubbornly, "You said you didn't want things to change! And now you're the one changing things, Katara!"

"Don't you think I know that? I hate this! I hate that we don't see eye to eye on this."

"No, you mean you _hate_ that I won't give you your way," he grunted.

Katara dropped her hand then. "That's not fair."

"She's _my_ daughter too," he said thickly, "You can't just take her from me."

"Would you please listen to me? That's not what I'm doing. That's not what I _want_ to do."

"Does it matter if the end result is the same? I don't want to be apart from her." And then his expression collapsed completely as he finally succumbed to the tears he had been fighting back that entire time. "I don't want to be apart from _you_."

His tears triggered her own. They fell unchecked down her cheeks as she dissolved into quiet sobs. "I wish I could fix this, Aang," she wept, "But…but it feels like we want different things right now."

"Do we?" he challenged, "Because I want _you_. I want you and Kya. That hasn't changed."

"Aang, I-,"

"—do you still want me?"

The earnest entreaty in his eyes easily crumbled her resolve. "Yes. Yes," she whispered, "I want you."

He kissed her then, releasing weeks of pent up emotion and fear in one tumultuous burst of need. Katara kissed him back with matching passion, yielding her body to the wanton demands of his lips and hands. But when she felt his fingers slipping beneath her tunic to skim her bare skin and push away her clothing altogether Katara forced herself to scoot out of his embrace. As much as she throbbed with need for him right then, Katara knew that sex would only be a temporary salve and the larger problem would still remain.

It was a long time before she found the courage to look at him again and, when she did, the hurt and confusion she saw reflected in his eyes left her emotionally eviscerated. She bit her lip and looked away then because she knew if she didn't she'd throw away all of her determination. She'd forget all of her sound reasoning and they would be good for a time, great even, before inevitably becoming locked in that same old circular argument. And she _needed_ to be strong, if not for herself then certainly for Kya.

"Sex won't fix anything," she mumbled finally when he remained silent, "You know it won't."

"And you think going to the South Pole will 'fix it?'"

"I think we need a break so we can both focus on the things that matter to us."

"What does that even mean? Focus on what matters? You and Kya matter! That's _all_ that matters."

"Stop making it sound like I'm throwing us away or something!"

"_I'm_ not making it sound like anything. These are _your_ words, Katara!"

"I don't want to keep fighting with you, Aang!"

"So, stop fighting! Ultimately, we want the same thing, to give Kya a good life and to love her. Why can't that be enough for you?"

"I need more than this nomadic existence we've been living for the past two years! And I'm not faulting you because I know that's all you can give us right now," she rushed to add when his jaw tightened, "I understand that you don't have a choice. But _I_ do. I want to put down some kinds of roots, for Kya's sake."

"The monks always taught us that home consisted of community and not stone walls."

"I wasn't raised by monks," Katara uttered, "And home should be a place where you feel safe. Aang, don't you get it? When that man attacked us the other day…I wasn't afraid for myself. But _Kya_…if that man had hurt Kya, I would have never been able to live with myself after that. I'm scared for her!"

"You want her to be safe."

"Yes!"

"And you don't think she's safe with me?"

Katara shook her head, checking the impulse to groan aloud when he drew that erroneous conclusion. "That's not what I'm saying."

He regarded her with a remote expression. "But it's true, isn't it?" he challenged flatly, "And, after what happened the other day, maybe you have a point. Maybe she's not safe. Maybe the best thing for her is to be far away from me."

"Aang, that is _not_ what I'm saying," Katara reiterated fiercely, "Please don't take it like this."

He didn't acknowledge her words but instead continued as if she hadn't spoken at all. "You should take her then," he decided gruffly, "You should take Kya to the South Pole. I won't fight you on it anymore."

Even though he was willing to concede to her suggestion, Katara still felt uneasy with his acquiesce. Despite all of her best efforts to reassure him to the contrary, he was obviously taking her decision as a rejection of him and _that_ broke her heart. "Please, Aang, don't be like this…"

"Just do it," he told her, "Don't waste your time with excuses. You gave me your reasons. I accept them. End of discussion."

"You can't just declare the conversation resolved because you're angry, Aang," Katara retorted, "I feel like you're taking this personally."

"And I shouldn't take it personally?"

"No!"

"That's not what you said the other night," he reminded her brutally, "You blamed me. And you were right because _I_ blame me. When you left camp, I wanted to go with you but I didn't because my pride was hurt. I made a bad call and look what happened."

"I was wrong to blame you. I was wrong to say that."

"It doesn't matter because it still happened. And it's my responsibility to protect you both and I failed. I just…I don't want to be separated from her. I love her." He glanced briefly at Katara when he added in a tone so soft she almost didn't hear him, "I love you."

"I love you too, Aang."

"But it hurts to be with you right now," he considered, "And…and I think maybe some distance would help."

"Now it sounds like _you_ don't want to be with _me_," Katara observed in a suffocated tone.

"You know that isn't true. That could _never_ be true, Katara,"

"But you think it could be true for me?"

"I don't know."

Katara gaped at him in dumbfounded incredulity. "You don't know? What do you mean you 'don't know?' Are you kidding me right now?"

He lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug and, in that moment, Katara didn't know if she wanted to burst into tears or smack him senseless. In the end, however, she did neither. Her pride wouldn't allow her to reveal to him just how much he had wounded her with his ostensibly casual doubt of her love for him. The fact that he would _dare_ question it after everything they had been through and everything she had sacrificed both angered and appalled her. In that instant, Katara felt like she would never forgive him.

"I can't believe you would actually question my feelings for you," she uttered in outrage, "I would _never_ doubt you like that, Aang."

"Maybe because I'm not the one proposing to take our daughter and move to the South Pole because I'm not having fun anymore."

His oversimplification of what had proven to be a very complex and extremely difficult decision for her was the final straw. She surged to her feet, hands fisted at her sides because the urge to hit him was almost overpowering for her at that point. She knew that she needed to get out of there before she did something that she would regret.

"You're a real jerk," she informed him tightly, "And I don't deserve how you're treating me right now. This isn't how you treat someone you love!"

Aang barely spared her a glance. "You're hardly the person to give me a lesson, Katara. And, lucky for you, you don't have to put up with me for too much longer."

"Yeah, lucky for me," she muttered before finally stalking away.

Katara ignored Appa's mournful yelp of rebuke as she smoothly bent herself back into his saddle on an ascending sheet of ice. She didn't so much as spare Aang a backwards glance. She didn't dare because, if she did, he would see how much he had hurt her with his callous dismissal. She refused to let him witness her breakdown into helpless sobs. She _couldn't_ let him see her tears.

But, in keeping her back turned to him, Katara also couldn't see Aang's either.

**~To Be Continued~**


	7. Fumbling Towards Maturity

**Fumbling Towards Maturity**

To say that Aang had unceremoniously dumped his wife and child at the South Pole might have been something of an exaggeration but in Katara's rather biased estimation, it wasn't that far off the mark. Her feelings on the matter were only strengthened by the fact that he'd abruptly changed their plan to return to the Southern Air Temple and all without having a single discussion with her about it. It was true that he _had_ received an urgent correspondence by messenger hawk shortly after that terrible fight which had necessitated that abrupt change in plans but that was beside the point. The bottom line was that he had left her and Kya behind and had given her no real warning about his intentions.

After reading the message that had kicked everything into a flux, Aang had been visibly disturbed by its contents but hadn't volunteered the details to Katara. And though she had naturally been concerned over the sudden turn of events, she had far too much pride to ask him about, especially when it was clear to her that he was intent on shutting her out. In fact, Katara didn't actually learn that he needed to return to Republic City to deal with an urgent crisis at all until he was explaining to her grandmother that he would be gone for at least ten days. Feeling blindsided by the news, Katara hadn't been able to mask her shock…or her anger.

By that point, she had been fuming and that boiling rage was enough to obliterate any lingering worry she felt over what the "urgent crisis" could be. Or, at least, it had made it easier to ignore that worry. She was fuming for being left in the dark in the first place. Fuming for being dumped in the South Pole without any real discussion. Fuming because Aang was essentially being an ass to her for no good reason!

It didn't matter to Katara that only one day earlier she had indicated to him that she wanted to spend more time in the South Pole to teach Kya waterbending. It was of little consequence that Aang was _technically_ giving her what she'd asked for. What mattered was that they were still in the middle of a rather terrible fight and instead of staying to stand his ground and work it out with her, Aang had resorted to the old tried and true: evade and avoid. Sure, he had a convenient excuse for running but Katara recognized that it was an excuse nonetheless.

As Katara watched Appa's massive form retreat into the cloudless, purple horizon with forlorn eyes and struggled to console her weeping child, she felt absolutely certain of one thing. She did not like Aang very much at all in that moment. That was a remarkable and strange concept for her altogether. Because Katara couldn't remember a single time in the eight years that she had known him when she had ever seriously disliked him…until now. The realization was made further confusing by the knowledge that her love for him hadn't diminished at all. It remained as deep and as fierce as it had always been, an integral part of her genetic code. Until that second, she hadn't even known that it was possible to love someone so much and yet dislike them so intensely at the same time. And yet, it was and she did.

She had few doubts that Aang likely felt something similar if the impulsive decision to drop her at the South Pole was any indication. It had become especially evident when the time came for them to part ways. While his goodbye with Kya had been fraught with tearful emotion and lots of reassuring kisses, with Kya clinging and crying and throwing a proper fit at the realization that t her father would dare leave her behind and Aang clearly anguished over causing her such distress, his parting with Katara had been devoid of emotion. He barely spoke to her and, when he did, his words were clipped and reserved and almost formal. He didn't even look at her. Instead, he warmly addressed her grandmother, cordially thanked Kanna for hosting his family in his absence and then promised to return in ten days.

And that was that. He flew away on Appa and left Katara standing there, without so much as a wave of farewell, clutching their screaming daughter to her breast while her grandmother looked on in speechless shock. Katara had never felt so humiliated in her life. Anger and sadness swelled in her breast anew but with no real outlet for the emotions, they simply burned in her chest, making it difficult for her to breathe.

Suddenly feeling tired and defeated in the aftermath, Katara brushed tender kisses across Kya's temple as the toddler continued to weep in a small, pitiable voice, "I want my daddy. I want my daddy."

_I want him too._ The words sprang up into Katara's heart unbidden but she stubbornly beat them back down, irritated with herself that the thought should even come up at all. If Aang could walk away from her with such careless ease then she certainly wasn't going to waste a moment of her precious time missing him.

"I know you want your daddy, sweetie," Katara murmured to Kya in a consoling tone, "He'll be back soon. I promise. But in the meantime, you and I can have lots of fun together. We can build a snowman. We could go ice skating or go on a canoe ride. We could even go penguin sledding if you want." Kya lifted her head then, her big blue eyes wet with tears but also gleaming with cautious interest. "That's your favorite, right?"

Kya sniffled and nodded. "I like penguin sledding."

"I know you do."

"You always give me fish so I can catch them."

"That's right. And you can have all the fish you want."

"Okay. But I want to wait for Daddy. It's _his_ favorite too."

Katara's smile faltered a bit with the caveat. "Sure," she said, pressing a consolatory kiss to Kya's forehead, "We can wait for Daddy."

As if sensing her granddaughter's mounting distress while not entirely certain of the reason for it, Kanna suddenly interjected, "You two look like you've had a long trip. Are you hungry?"

"Not really, Gran. It's getting late. I should probably get Kya down for bed."

"I'm not sleepy, Mama," Kya announced quickly though her drooping eyes told another story entirely, "I'll go to bed tomorrow."

"I think you might want to go to bed tonight," Katara laughed, "Come on. Let's get you into Gran-Gran's tent and I'll tell you a bedtime story."

"Just like Daddy does?"

Again, Katara's features became shuttered with the mention of her estranged husband but she was quick to cover her discomfiture that time because she was acutely aware of her grandmother's scrutiny. "I can't say I can do all the same sound effects that Daddy does but I'll do my best."

It turned out that Katara didn't have to tell Kya a story after all. By the time she had finished removing her daughter's outerwear and moccasins, Kya had already fallen asleep. After her uncharacteristically emotional outburst earlier, Katara was hardly surprised that Kya was spent. Still, she found herself wishing that the little girl had fought off sleep as she usually did because without her to serve as a distraction Katara knew she would have no way of avoiding conversation with her grandmother.

Sure enough, when Katara swiveled around to place Kya's clothing and shoes neatly in the far corner of the tent, she discovered Kanna standing at the entrance watching her with speculative interest. Katara quickly dropped her eyes and quickly made a production of busying herself with straightening different knickknacks because she desperately needed to do something with her hands. The entire time she fidgeted, however, she could feel her grandmother's intense stare.

"If I had known you were coming, I would have prepared a place for you," Kanna remarked after a moment.

"I really appreciate that you're putting us up on such short notice. Thank you."

Katara didn't realize that she was compulsively polishing an earthenware bowl and was in danger of grinding it into dust until Kanna came to kneel beside her and placed her weathered hand atop of her own to still her action. Only then did Katara find the courage to meet Kanna's eyes. And, when she did, she devoutly wished she hadn't because tears immediately began to well up.

"You look tired," Kanna observed softly.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Katara glanced away and replied, "It's been a long day. A long week really." _And an even longer month_, Katara added in internal afterthought.

"I'm sure. Didn't you and Aang just return from the Earth Kingdom?"

"Yes."

"And now he's headed back there?"

"Yes."

Kanna emitted a pensive "hmm" in response and it was clear from her expression that she believed there to be more to the story even if Katara chose not to elaborate. "Katara, you know it's never an imposition to have you here."

"I appreciate that, Gran."

"And you are always, always welcome here."

"Why am I sensing a 'but' from you right now?" Katara wondered thickly.

"It does seem strange that Aang brought you here rather than taking you both home to the air temple," Kanna considered, "Or better yet, taking you with him on his trip. In fact, it hardly seems like him to leave you behind at all."

"Is having us stay here going to be a problem for you?" Katara asked in a weary tone.

"Now don't get your dander up," Kanna laughed, "I'm speaking out of concern. You and Aang seemed a little out of sorts when you said goodbye earlier." She tactfully refrained from pointing out that, technically, they hadn't said goodbye to each other at all. The frosty atmosphere between them had been a tangible force even in the South Pole's frigid temperatures.

Katara, however, was quick to dismiss her grandmother's concerns. "Like I said before, it's been a long day, Gran. Aang was tired. I was tired. Kya was a mess. I'm sure he just wanted to get out of here so that he could get back as soon as he could."

"And that's all it was?" Kanna prompted skeptically.

"You know me and Aang. What else could there be?" Katara brazened.

"Seems like more to me. Are you sure that everything is okay between you two?"

"Everything's fine, Gran." But the words hardly sounded convincing even to her own ears. Desperate to throw her grandmother off the scent and avoid talking about the matter altogether, Katara added with forced brightness, "Aang and I agreed that I should come stay in the South Pole for a little while so I can teach Kya waterbending. That's all."

"Really? That's fantastic!" Kanna exclaimed, "It took you long enough to decide."

Katara checked the impulse to roll her eyes. "I thought you would be pleased."

"Oh, I wish I had known that was your plan. You know that Sokka and Suki were here a few weeks ago and little Anik is showing some considerable skill as a waterbender himself. Your brother doesn't know what to do with that boy."

"I know. We've already talked about lessons but Sokka thinks we should wait until Anik is older."

"Never too early to learn."

"He's not even two years old yet, Gran, and Sokka and Suki are still adjusting to the fact he's a bender. Give them some time to wrap their heads around it."

Kanna grunted in response. "Can't be easy for two nonbenders to raise a bending child. Sometimes that can be too much," she said, "I watched your mother and father struggle through it with you. Then they had the added pressure of keeping your skill hidden because of constant threats from the Fire Nation. It was hard work because you couldn't always control it, especially when you were agitated. The sooner Anik can learn to control his abilities, the easier it will be on Sokka and Suki."

"Be that as it may, Gran, it's Sokka's decision. Anik is _his_ son. You should stay out of it."

"Bah, I know," Kanna clucked with a dismissive wave of her hand, "You kids have your own way of doing things. But sometimes I just don't understand your decisions." She finished the last of that statement with Katara mouthing the words and mimicking her facial expression and gestures in a parodied impression. Kanna regarded her granddaughter with a stern scowl for her impudence. "Oh, I see…now that you're married with a child of your own you don't think it's necessary to respect your elders? Is that it?"

"Sorry, Gran," Katara mumbled contritely.

"I only speak my mind because I want what's best for my family. If I can't tell you the truth when you need to hear it, whether you _want_ to hear it or not then what good am I?"

"I know you mean well."

She and Kanna had engaged in this same conversation in various refrains countless times in the past. Her grandmother, Katara discovered some time ago, had very strong opinions about a number of subjects but, most notably in recent years, she was especially vocal when it came to her grandchildren's decisions about childrearing. It seemed that neither she nor Sokka were ever doing it right and, if by some miracle they _did_ do it right then there was always a need for them to do it _better_. Sometimes Katara felt that, no matter what she did, she would always fall short somehow in her grandmother's eyes.

It was very possible that those feelings weren't based in actual reality but merely manifested by the pressure that Katara tended to place upon herself but those long harbored insecurities were felt real regardless. Her grandmother's opinion and approval meant a great deal to Katara and, whether consciously or unconsciously, Katara was driven by the innate need to please her.

That desire, ironically, was the very reason Katara found herself in her current predicament. She and Aang were in a fight because she needed Kanna to see her as a capable mother. Her constant need for Kanna's approval now had her at odds with her husband. Yet, as soon as the impulse to unfairly blame her grandmother for the fight entered Katara's heart, she wisely stamped it down. Regardless of whether it had been Kanna's opinion or not, Katara was the one who had chosen to follow through on her grandmother's advice and _she_ was the one who had to live with the consequences.

Sapped of energy and besieged with the sudden need to cry, Katara said in a suffocated voice, "Gran, I'm really tired. Do you mind if I turn in for the night?"

"Of course not, dear. We can talk more in the morning."

Unfortunately, that conversation never came and, at first, Katara didn't know if she should view the reprieve as a blessing or a curse. She wasn't particularly eager to talk about her marital woes, especially with her grandmother. But, in the harrowing days that followed, Katara quickly decided that putting off that conversation had probably been a curse.

When the next morning came and Kya awakened to the renewed understanding that her father would be gone for more than a week, the weeping and the tantrums started all over again. This time, however, her little girl proved to be inconsolable. Indignant over being separated from Aang and confused because her mother would not remedy the situation, Kya became a little terror, transforming from a clever, albeit stubborn, genial sweetheart to a foul-tempered, disobedient, screaming little monster.

In an uncharacteristic show of defiance, Kya took any and every opportunity she could to be contrary with her mother. Everything was "no," "stop," "I don't want to," and "leave me alone!" Even coaxing her into doing even the smallest of tasks, like consenting to having her hair brushed, became a nightmarish chore. Her bratty behavior only served to further grate on Katara's already frayed nerves. In the midst of attempting to wrangle her volatile daughter, Katara reacted with equal volatility, vacillating wildly between short-tempered bursts of anger and tears during the day and numb regret and self-recrimination at night.

Finally, after nearly a week of dealing with her mercurial granddaughters, Kanna reached the limits of her patience and stepped in. She started with Kya, since she would be the easier of the two. She sat the two year old down for a stern talk while a harried Katara looked on.

"You miss your daddy, do you?" Kya sniffled and nodded miserably. "You want him to come back?" Another nod followed that question with yet more sniffles. "Well, he will! He's not going to be gone forever! He'll be back here in three days," Kanna told her brusquely, "So, enough with all this crying and carrying on business or I'll give you something to cry about but good! Do we understand each other, young lady?"

"Yes, ma'am."

And that was that. Kya didn't dare throw another tantrum. In fact, following Kanna's simple but firm chastisement, Kya underwent a complete personality shift, resuming her usual conviviality that was also tempered with a healthy dose of caution. She was careful to give her great grandmother, whom she had deemed in a surreptitious whisper to her mother to be, "really scary," the wide berth.

Once the situation with Kya was finally settled, Kanna turned her attention to Katara. Because she knew her granddaughter would look for any and every reason to rebuff her, Kanna had wisely decided to broach the subject with Katara only _after_ Kya had been fed, bathed and tucked into bed for the night. Without the needs of her daughter to use as an excuse or distraction Katara would have no choice but to engage.

Kanna waited until Katara presented herself for her nightly ritual of hair braiding (something she hadn't allowed Kanna to do since she was nine years old). As she gently brushed the tangles from Katara's long, thick hair, she deliberately waited until Katara was relaxed to the point of almost dozing before she pounced. "So, what's going on with you and Aang?"

That question caused an immediate stiffening in Katara's shoulders, all vestiges of sleep fizzling like freshly fallen dew under the morning sun as she abruptly straightened. "Nothing. We're good."

Kanna gave Katara's hair a gentle tug as she began to wind her braid. "You're a terrible liar, my dear. Always have been."

"I really don't want to talk about it, Gran."

"So you've been saying for days now and I've tried to respect that because you had your hands full with Kya," Kanna replied, smoothly ignoring Katara's dubious snort at her words, "But now that we're past all of that nonsense, it's time for you and I to have a chat."

"I'd rather not."

Her refusal didn't deter Kanna one iota. "You two in a fight?" she persisted, as if Katara hadn't spoken at all.

Once again, Katara stiffened. She couldn't admit that truth out loud but she also lacked the wherewithal to deny it either. Kanna shrewdly discerned that as well.

"Is it about your being here?" Again, Katara didn't respond but Kanna didn't need her to. The moment Katara averted her head to hide her tears, Kanna had all the confirmation she needed. "Is it a bad one?"

At that point, Katara gave up the pretense of being noncommittal because she knew that Kanna would never stop digging. There was that but also the fact that she had grown weary of holding it in any longer. "It's the worst fight we've ever had, Gran," she confessed thickly, "Aang thinks I'm here because I don't love him anymore."

"Well, that's a ridiculous notion."

"That's what I said too but he's being so…so unreasonable and he's making me crazy!" Katara lamented in frustration, "He's never been like this before and I hate it. I…I just want to throttle him! He didn't even tell me we were coming here. Did you know that? He just dropped us off and that was that."

"Oh, Katara…"

"All I wanted was a stable environment for Kya, somewhere I could teach her waterbending and she could flourish," Katara ranted, more to herself than to her grandmother, "I wanted a sense of permanence! That's it! Is that so wrong?" She twisted a despairing glance up at her grandmother, looking for absolution, begging for the answers.

"My sweet girl, you knew when you married him that wasn't going to be possible. Aang is the Avatar, Katara. His first responsibility will always be to others."

Katara dissolved into quiet sobs with her reply. "It's not fair. I'm only asking for a little time for us. I want something normal, even if it's just for a little while," she wept, "But when I told him that, he acted like I was rejecting him or something. He totally shut me out, Gran. He actually _questioned_ my feelings for him. After everything we've been through, everything we are to each other… I can't believe he would do that and I'm so…so mad at him for it!"

"I can see that."

She mutinously whisked away the tears on her cheeks, as if angry with herself for even shedding them. "Why can't we just talk like we used to? When did everything get so complicated between us? Now, whenever we disagree about something, he acts so sullen and moody and distant…and…"

"…like a man?"

"No, Gran. Aang isn't into all that stupid machismo nonsense. He's not Sokka."

"I'm not saying that he is. I'm saying that, like most men, much of Aang's self-worth is tied up in his family, specifically his family's _view_ of him. Women? We need to feel loved. We crave it. But men? They want to feel respected, _especially_ by their wives. And I suspect, from Aang's point-of-view, he feels like he's lost your respect, otherwise why would you be here?"

"But _you're_ the one who suggested it! I was only doing what you said!"

"I thought training Kya was something you and Aang could do _together_, Katara! I wasn't proposing that you leave your husband!"

"I didn't leave him!"

"Does Aang know that?"

"Yes! I told him that. I told him over and over but it's like he couldn't hear me at all."

"And, in the end, you're here and he's out there somewhere. Which do you think speaks louder? Your words or your actions?"

It was a good question and one Katara considered deeply over the next three days. While her intentions had been pure, she could understand why Aang might believe otherwise, especially when her suggestion had come on the heels of a serious fight where she had essentially accused him of putting their daughter's life in danger. Under such circumstances, it was no wonder that he seemed to think her desire to teach Kya waterbending in the South Pole was just an excuse to get away from him.

Realizing belatedly how thoroughly she had screwed up and unable to deny the soundness of her grandmother's wisdom, Katara was filled with galvanized determination to set things right with Aang. Rather than dreading his return, as she had been for the majority of that week, Katara began to meticulously count the hours until he came back. She was eager to resolve the misunderstandings between them and, hopefully, put the remains of the last miserable month behind them.

For the next three days she kept herself busy with Kya, playing in the snow, patiently teaching Kya different waterbending forms and reacquainting herself with the frozen terrain of her childhood home. But Aang was never far from her mind and the desire to talk to him again gradually became an all-consuming need. When the day for him to return arrived at long last, she and Kya spent most of that morning camped outside of her Gran's tent scanning the sky. It was midafternoon when Katara spotted Appa on the horizon and the second she caught sight of him, her heart began knocking against her ribs like a trip hammer.

As soon as Kya saw them, she shot off of her mother's lap and took off across the snow in a dead run, her excited squeals echoing across the tundra. Left without much choice, Katara chased after her though no amount of calling Kya's name would get the little girl to slow down. She was on a mission to get to her father and there was no deterring her.

Fortunately Aang, having spotted his errant daughter's approach from above, angled Appa in for a closer landing so that Kya didn't have to run too far and risk potential injury in her efforts to reach him. He brought Appa down a little more than twenty feet away from the village. By the time Katara finally caught up to Kya, he had already leapt to the ground on a jet of air to scoop his daughter up into a twirling bear hug. Momo also joined in the reunion, darting happy circles around Aang's feet before scampering over to Katara for a proper hello.

While Aang preoccupied himself with Kya, Katara welcomed Appa back with warm nuzzles. He licked her consolingly, well aware of her mournful expression as she watched her husband and daughter together. "Thanks, boy," she mumbled with an affectionate smile, "I needed that."

Meanwhile, Aang continued to spin Kya in dizzying circles. "I missed you so much!" he exclaimed, peppering her small face with smacking kisses, "I feel like I haven't seen you in a hundred years!"

Kya hugged him hard, burrowing her small face in his neck. "Me too, Daddy." And then she abruptly lifted her head to regard him with a stern glare. "No more trips. I don't like it when you go away."

It was at that moment, for the first time since his arrival, that Aang took note of Katara standing there. He only met her eyes briefly but that split second proved to be telling nonetheless. The chill in his gray stare was unmistakable. Whatever hope Katara had that his anger towards her had lessened in the last ten days died a quick, ignominious death. She valiantly blinked back the tears of disappointment that sprang to her eyes and that was _before_ Aang said, "Well, if I had my way, I'd never leave you, little bug, but that depends on your mother."

Cheerfully oblivious to the rising tension between her parents or the knowledge that she was at the center of it, Kya asked, "Where did you go? Was it the Earth Kingdom? Did you see Uncle Zuko? Did you bring me a present?"

"Yes, it was the Earth Kingdom. Yes, I saw Uncle Zuko. And _maybe_ I got you a present," Aang answered her with a teasing smile.

Kya wasn't at all fooled by his attempt to throw her off the trail. If there was one thing that she knew with certainty it was that her daddy always, _always_ had presents. She clapped her hands in childish glee.

"Oooh, I want to see! Show me, Daddy! Show me."

"Now, you have to promise me that you'll be very gentle with it," Aang warned mildly as he set her back on her feet, "You can't manhandle him like you do with Momo, although you probably shouldn't manhandle Momo either…" The aforementioned vigorously chittered his agreement with that statement.

"Oh, Aang…" Katara groaned in consternation, "Please tell me that you didn't get her _another_ pet!"

"Our daughter loves animals, Katara," he replied somewhat defensively, "I don't see anything wrong with encouraging that."

"And the baby koala-sheep, pond full of koi fish, four turtleducks, two hamsters, two dozen sky bison and countless lemurs aren't enough?" Katara challenged with equal defensiveness, "Really, Aang? Are you trying to start a zoo?"

Kya tipped up an artless smile at her. "One more, Mama," she wheedled sweetly, lifting one, tiny finger in supplication, "Just one more baby."

Realizing that she had very little choice in the matter since Aang had already floated back into Appa's saddle to retrieve his gift, Katara huffed in surrender, "Fine."

Seconds later Aang reappeared with a small, wooden cage that was covered with a purple, silk drape. As his daughter literally hopped from one foot to the other in excited anticipation, Aang pulled back the drape to reveal a small, sky blue sparrowkeet with black and white zebra stripes across its back that extended from the crown of its head to the tips of its wings. Kya fell in love at first sight.

"It's a bird," she shrieked so loudly that Aang laughed, "Mama! Come see! Come see my new bird!"

With a resigned sigh, Katara crouched forward for a closer look while Aang patiently demonstrated to Kya how to properly stroke the bird's feathers. "You don't want to be too rough," he explained with an affectionate smile, "Otherwise, you could stress him and he'll lose all of his feathers."

Despite her best efforts, it was difficult for Katara to remain unmoved as she watched them together. He was so calm with Kya, so patient and adoring that it was impossible not to adore him too. In that instant, Katara was reminded powerfully of all the reasons she had fallen in love with Aang in the first place and what she really wanted to do right then was kiss him breathless. But the distance between them remained like a gaping chasm and she had no idea how to cross it. She wasn't even sure if Aang even wanted her to try.

Meanwhile, Kya was concentrating on following her father's instructions when the gist of what he was saying finally settled on her and her small face scrunched in disappointment. "Wait! It's a _boy bird_?"

Aang bit back an amused smile. "Unfortunately, all the girls were already taken. Besides, boys aren't so bad. _I'm_ a boy."

"I guess…" Kya considered without much enthusiasm.

Deciding to call her bluff, Aang flipped back the drape and straightened. "Well, okay then," he sighed, "I suppose I'll take him back to the pet shop. Maybe he'll find someone else to love him…"

"Wait, Daddy!" Kya cried before he could take another step, "Maybe it's okay that he's a boy…"

"Are you sure? It's a big decision. You shouldn't be rash."

"I want him. I do," Kya vowed with a vigorous nod, arms already outstretched to receive the cage.

"Good," Aang laughed, finally yielding, "I thought you might feel that way."

Katara stooped down low to favor her daughter with a gentle smile. "What are you going to name him?" she asked.

Kya briefly set down the cage to tap her chin. "Biru."

"That's a pretty name for a pretty bird."

"Yep," Kya agreed, wholly distracted with admiring her newest pet, "Can I go show him to Gran-Gran, Mama?"

"Only if you promise to go straight to the tent. No detours."

"Okay, Mama." She paused to wave at Aang. "Bye, Daddy. I'll be back. Remember, no more trips, okay." Katara watched her stagger away with Momo scurrying at her heels. Her mouth turned in a wistful smile.

"Maybe we should go with her," Aang considered as he watched Kya struggle with walking and holding the cage at the same time, "What if she falls?"

"She'll be fine, Aang." Almost the instant Katara made the declaration, Kya suddenly placed the cage down on the compacted snow and began smoothly gliding it across the slick surface back towards the village by use of her bending. Katara flashed her husband a brief, sideways smile. "Told you. She always finds a way."

Aang stared after his daughter in speechless amazement. "When did she learn to do that?"

"Two days ago. Your daughter is a very quick study."

They exchanged a brief smile of parental pride over their little girl's ingenuity and that small bit of respite between them buoyed Katara with enough courage to ask, "So what was the 'urgent crisis' going on in Republic City?"

Rather than stonewalling her, Aang was surprised to discover that he actually _wanted_ to discuss the matter with her. Despite literal weeks having passed since he and Katara had shared any real meaningful conversation, Aang still found it effortless to confide in her. He supposed that was understandable considering the fact that, in spite of the contention between them, she remained his best friend.

"You remember that place in the city called little Fire town?"

"How could I forget it?" Katara asked wryly, "You make it a point to stop there for the spicy roasted leechi nuts every time we go. What about it?"

"Two weeks ago, several shops in little Fire Town were vandalized," he explained, "A lot of property damage occurred. A group calling themselves 'EKJ' has taken responsibility for the crimes."

"EKJ?"

"Earth Kingdom Justice," Aang clarified with an aggravated eye roll, "Apparently, this group has been promoting propaganda against the Fire Nation for years. According to their narrative, the Fire Nation is still seeking to infiltrate the Earth Kingdom but now they're doing it under the guise of becoming a united republic. Because of their rhetoric, a division has formed in the city and several riots have ensued."

"Oh Aang, that's terrible."

"The fighting only stopped after I arrived," he said wearily, "The local authorities have things under control right now but it's only a matter of time before the tension flares up again. Sometimes, I feel like it will never stop…like I'm fighting a losing battle."

He sounded so defeated, so frustrated, so genuinely tired of it all that Katara felt compelled to reach out and touch his hand. The moment she touched him, however, it was like a veil fell over Aang's eyes. Suddenly, he was reminded of all the reasons he had been so keen to put distance between them in the first place and that none of those reasons had really changed. How could he possibly let himself lean on her when his duties as Avatar weighed heavily on him when he was well aware that she resented him for fulfilling those same duties?

"I don't know why I told you all of that," he said, his tone reserved and his features inscrutable, "It's Avatar business and I know you're trying to distance yourself."

"I never said that, Aang."

"No. You said that you needed a break so we could both focus on what's important to us," he reminded her gruffly, "That's what I'm trying to do."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Do I?"

"Stop it!" she cried in frustration, "Stop acting like you don't know me and you don't know how I feel about you!"

"You're the one who wanted to be apart. Not me."

"That's not what I was after, Aang. I _swear_ to you, it wasn't!" She looked on with bated breath as he waged an internal fight to steel himself against her earnest pleas. "Come on," she cajoled softly, "Don't be like this. Talk to me."

"What do you want me to say? You and I are different people, Katara."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means…I'm not like you. I don't see parenthood the way you do and I don't think of home the way you do," he replied gruffly, "For me, home is wherever you and Kya are, whether we're here in the South Pole or at the air temple or camping in the middle of an Earth Kingdom forest. It doesn't matter to me as long as we're together. And as far as _how_ we raise her, as long as she knows that she's loved then I'm satisfied."

"What makes you think I don't feel the same?"

"Because everything is a rule with you," he accused, his frustration with her flaring without warning, "It has to be just so or it's not right. If I'm not doing it your way then I'm not measuring up as a father and that's hard to deal with, okay! It's hard to know that I'm constantly falling short in your eyes, so yeah…maybe we just need to focus on our own things for a while."

When Katara opened her mouth to defend herself against that stunning admission, she was appalled to realize there was nothing she could say in her own defense. She couldn't very well argue with him. In essence, she had been doing to Aang the very thing that Kanna had been doing to her, unconsciously creating undercurrents of self-doubt in him. She had been so sure of the superiority of her own way that she had been unwilling to consider that there might be another way that was equally valid. It was a longstanding personality flaw of hers but she had never imagined that one day that flaw would sow seeds of insecurity in her husband.

Mistaking her silence for tacit agreement, Aang slumped forward with a weary sigh. "Look, I'm beat. It's been a long trip and I just want to spend as much time with Kya as I can before the next crisis hits."

"Aang, I really think we should talk more first-,"

"—Can we try again tomorrow?" he sighed despairingly, "I'm all talked out for now."

"Sure," Katara agreed with a forced smile, "That's fine."

Back at the village, Katara and Kanna watched from the sidelines as Aang and Kya romped around in the snow. Though Kya invited her mother to join them countless times, Katara shook her head and said, "No, you and Daddy have fun for now. Just the two of you."

In keeping with that suggestion, it wasn't very long before Kya was pleading with her father to take her penguin sledding. Never one to pass up that activity, Aang gladly indulged his daughter's request. After a quick farewell kiss to her mother, Kya and Aang were off on Appa and Katara was, once again, left behind.

Kanna came to stand beside her after father and daughter took flight. Together, the two women watched Appa's retreating form against the skyline. For yet another countless time that day, Katara found herself struggling not to cry. She was valiantly fighting back her tears when her grandmother asked, "Did you two talk?"

"Not exactly."

"Katara, it's a simple question. Did you talk to your husband or didn't you?"

"Aang talked. I listened. Unfortunately, I don't know if I can fix things," she replied sadly, "I'm not even sure I should try. I've done enough damage already." And then, before Kanna could question her further about that cryptic response, Katara turned to her with tear-brightened eyes and asked, "Gran, do you think I'm a good mom?"

"I think you're an incredible mother, Katara!" Kanna cried emphatically, "Did _Aang_ tell you otherwise?"

"No, he didn't. _You_ did." Kanna gaped at her, left aghast by the accusation. "Ever since we had Kya you've been critical of every decision I make. It's like I can't win with you."

"Katara, I'm a cantankerous old woman. _No one_ can win with me. But you have nothing to prove to me," Kanna said, "Kya is a delightful little girl. A bit spoiled and willful but that's to be expected considering who her father is but you've both done an exceptional job with her. Just because I offer a differing opinion on how you choose to raise her that doesn't mean I don't think you're a good mother."

"Really, Gran?"

She pulled Katara close for a hug, squeezing her tightly. "I love you, my little waterbender. And I'm so proud of you. Don't you ever forget that."

Katara didn't realize how much she needed to hear that reassurance until her grandmother said the words. She dissolved into tears, not only for the misunderstandings that had been so pervasive between her and Kanna but those between her and Aang as well. "I love you too, Gran-Gran," she wept, "Thank you for helping me see the best in myself even when I make a mess of things…"

Long after Katara had composed herself and retired to the guest tent that would serve as lodging quarters for her and Aang, Kanna had continued to turn her granddaughter's words over in her mind. _Thank you for helping me see the best in me even when I make a mess of things._ Clearly, not only was the argument between Aang and Katara far from resolved but it also seemed that Katara was blaming herself for it. Kanna regretted that. She further regretted the possibility that something she had said or done might have possibly worsened the rift between the two. Consequently, she felt compelled to help somehow because, from her perspective, both Aang and Katara were too stubborn and too prideful to do it themselves.

So in typical fashion, Kanna decided to take matters into her own hands. When Aang finally returned with Kya an hour later, she was there waiting for him. Before he could discern her intention, Kanna plucked the limp, exhausted two year old from her father's arms. "I'll get her cleaned up," she told him before Aang could begin to protest, "Katara's in the guest tent. Go talk to your wife, Aang, and don't come out until you fix what's broken."

Aang didn't dare contradict her. Not because he feared her, though he certainly did, but because he had already come to the understanding that he couldn't keep putting off a real conversation with Katara any longer. For the past ten days he had been fighting with himself, veering back and forth between anger and longing and he was tired.

He loved his wife, wanted her as much as ever but he also blamed her for their family's current state. After all, it was _her_ rigid insistence that had led them to this point, _her_ unwillingness to see past her own way… And he had been so righteous in his indignation too, so sure that he was the wronged party until he saw his two year old daughter cleverly use her waterbending to corral a fleeing penguin into her grasp and then he finally understood why training Kya in the South Pole had been so important to Katara. In that moment, Aang couldn't deny that Kya was where she belonged.

That's when he finally realized that the only person who had been rigid in his viewpoint had been _him_. That's when he realized how angry and stupid and foolish he'd been. When he returned to the village, it was with the full intention of seeking Katara out once he had Kya situated for the night. Thankfully, Kanna had intervened to make that transition even quicker.

When Aang finally ducked into the tent, he prepared himself for Katara's irate reaction, even welcomed it. After all, he had spent the majority of that afternoon virtually ignoring her for the audacity of wanting train their daughter in the South Pole. He wouldn't fault her if she never wanted to talk to him again or, worse yet, if the only words she had to offer were full of bitter recrimination. Aang knew that he deserved whatever stinging rebuke she delivered and more.

But when Katara swiveled around at his entrance and saw him standing there, her reaction was the last one he ever expected. He wasn't quite prepared when she came running into his arms, flinging her arms around his waist with an anguished sob. But, as she broke down, Aang did the only thing he could do. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight, cradling her against his chest as she cried and cried and cried.

The sound of her misery and stuttered apologies had a lacerating effect on his senses. Guilt ate through him like hot acid. His throat ached with regret. Mindlessly, he crooned his own garbled apologies into her rumpled hair as she clung to him, her small fists bunched around his tunic. He pressed small, fervent kisses across her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, telling her all the while how much he loved her, how very sorry he was that he had hurt her, pleading with her not to cry…

He didn't know exactly when his quiet gestures of comfort escalated into something more but the instant he touched his mouth to hers in a tentative kiss they both gasped with the unexpected sensation of it. Weeks had passed without that sort of intimacy between them and now, with one brief kiss, the spark reignited. With suspended breaths, Aang and Katara met each other's eyes in a profound stare before Aang very slowly, very deliberately lowered his head for another kiss. The instant their lips touched something primal and undeniable broke open between them.

Aang and Katara came together with unrestrained hunger, stumbling, twisting and grasping in their haste to be heart to heart, skin to skin. Their hands and mouths skimmed across each other's naked flesh in fevered urgency, leaving no place untouched or untasted. They made love with almost volatile intensity that night, driven by a gnawing need that felt as if it could not be satiated. When it was finally over, after they had sought fulfillment in each other's arms again and again, they rolled away from each other, sticky with perspiration, their limbs flaccid and trembling. They lay there breathless and wordless and left thoroughly incredulous by the violence of their coupling.

After what seemed an indeterminable amount of silence, Aang turned his head to regard Katara with a concerned frown. "Did I hurt you?"

"No."

Although, Aang had been unusually fierce during their lovemaking and Katara felt tender in several delicate places, her body aching in ways that she had _never_ experienced before, she had never felt more connected to him than she did right then either. It felt as if they had released more than pent up sexual frustration but also all the bitterness, anger and resentment they had been harboring against one another for weeks as well. The aftermath was almost cathartic in a way.

She traced the ridged bite mark that marred his shoulder. "Did _I_ hurt you?"

Aang shifted onto his side to kiss her with surprising gentleness then. "No." For a few moments they merely regarded one another in charged silence, the weight of all that had been left unspoken between them finally beginning to settle upon them now that their passion had cooled. "I'm so sorry, Katara."

"For what happened between us just now or..."

"For everything that led to it," he clarified gruffly, "For I how I've been treating you and the things I said before I left. And then the way I acted when I came back, _especially_ for using Kya against you. You didn't deserve that."

"I could have handled everything better. To spring it on you after we had that fight and when I was still very upset wasn't a good idea," she considered.

"You and Kya were attacked. It made sense that you'd be shaken up after that. I should have considered that but all I could think about was how much I wanted you to stay with me. I was selfish."

"But that wasn't _your_ fault. I was wrong to blame you. That was my fear and frustration talking, Aang, and nothing else." She could tell by his expression that he wanted to believe her words but that he was afraid to do so. It hurt to read the doubt behind his eyes but Katara was filled with renewed determination to dispel it. "For the record, I don't think you're a bad father or husband. I love the way you are with Kya…and with _me_. You're patient and kind and so gentle. When I see the way you are with our daughter, I can't help but love you even more."

"Katara, I know that I frustrate you because I let her get away with so much."

"You do," she admitted with surprising candor, "You definitely spoil her and that doesn't always thrill me _but_…you also know how to be firm with her when it counts. I know I have to stop expecting you to do it my way because we're different people. And that's okay. Besides, I _like_ the way you do things, Aang. I don't want you to change."

"And I don't want you to change either," Aang replied in a fervent whisper, "You were right when you said that the South Pole was the best place for Kya to train. I didn't want to hear you because I knew that meant that we would be separated. But I made it about me when it should have been about Kya. It wasn't fair to her and it wasn't fair to you. She _needs_ to be here."

"I think so too," Katara agreed softly, "But that doesn't mean we can't still travel with you from time to time. I'd like that, if you still want me to."

"I want you to," he answered without hesitation, "I'm sorry I made you think otherwise."

"We both made mistakes and we handled things really badly. It was a stupid fight and we let it go too far."

"I don't want to fight like that with you again, Katara. Not ever."

"Neither do I. So you have to promise me that we'll _never_ let things get this bad again. If we have a disagreement, we have to settle it right away. No walking away until it's resolved. No going to bed angry. Are we agreed on that?"

"Agreed," he whispered, seeking her lips in an eager kiss, "I promise. No more going to bed angry."

**~End~**


	8. Bend It Like Daddy

**Bend It Like Daddy**

"Kya, what on earth are you doing?"

Momentarily distracted from her task of scattering food for the bison and their lone koala-sheep and intermittently watching the skies for a glimpse of Aang, Katara studied her three and a half year old daughter with an amused, half smile. Kya's tiny brow was furrowed with intense concentration as she assumed a squatted stance with her feet set far apart. Her tiny arms were held outstretched and she waved them about in a wild, whirling pattern as if attempting to conjure forth something mystical. Every so often she would pop open one squinted eye, evidently to gauge the progress of some heretofore undiscovered endeavor, grit her teeth in disappointed frustration and then go right back to waving her arms like a crazy person. Katara had watched her do the same routine for the last half hour before finally deciding to comment.

Though she had her suspicions about what Kya was up to and it was clear that her daughter viewed her efforts very seriously, Katara couldn't help being entertained by her antics. In fact, it was very, very difficult for her not to laugh. To make matters even worse, even Momo looked on with general befuddlement, his tiny head cocked to one side watched Kya, his usually enigmatic green eyes clearly asking, "What on earth is going on here?"

Katara posed her question again when it became apparent that Kya hadn't heard her the first time. Only then did her little girl relax her stance and look up. She crossed her arms, her small face was drawn in an angry scowl. In that instant, she reminded Katara so much of Aang that her heart physically ached at the resemblance.

"I'm trying to airbend, Mama," she sighed plaintively, "I've been practicing really hard so I can show Daddy when he comes home but it's not working! Why won't it work?"

All traces of Katara's amusement were immediately replaced with pity and empathy. While she had known already that was likely what Kya had been up to, the despondency and self-flagellation in her daughter's tone filled her with sorrow. While it might have been funny to watch, it certainly wasn't funny in Kya's estimation and, for that reason, Katara didn't want to treat it lightly. After heaving a deep sigh of reservation, Katara set aside the feed bag and stooped down to draw her disappointed daughter into her arms.

"Oh, little bug, how long have you been working on this?"

"Today and yesterday and the day before that and that," Kya confessed glumly, "I keep trying and trying but I'm never going to get it."

"Well, sweetie, that's because you can't," Katara explained to her in the gentlest of tones, "You're not an airbender. You're a waterbender, remember?"

"But Daddy's a waterbender too. And an earthbender. _And_ a firebender," Kya reasoned expansively, "How come he can do it and I can't? I practice every day, Mama! It's not fair!"

"That's because your daddy is the Avatar and only the Avatar can bend _everything_."

Kya squinted at her, struggling to understand why such an ability would be relegated to one person. Finally, she asked, "But _why_ is Daddy the Avatar? Is it because he's the only airbender anymore? Did he get borned that way? Did he get picked? Can _I _get picked too?"

Surprisingly, Katara actually didn't have an immediate answer to any of those questions. While she and Aang had briefly explained to Kya months ago that being the Avatar meant that he possessed the ability to bend all four elements, they hadn't really gone into great detail about what that meant, what it entailed or even _why_ it was necessary. After all, she was still fairly young and her attention span tended to be fleeting. Back then, she had merely wanted to know how her father could be an airbender, waterbender, firebender and earthbender all at the same time. When they had explained to her that Aang had been born an airbender but being the Avatar made it so that he could bend more than just air, she had seemed satisfied with their answer and that had been the end of it. Or so Katara had thought…

Recognizing that she wasn't going to resolve Kya's dilemma with a quick explanation, Katara took hold of her daughter's hand. "Come here for a second," she urged, "There are some things you need to understand." After clearing a path for them through the flocking animals, Katara took a seat on the flat surface of one of the many rocks and boulders that surrounded the courtyard and pulled Kya into her lap.

"Kya, do you know what it means to be the Avatar?" Kya regarded her with round, expressive eyes and shook her head. "It means that you have the responsibility of protecting the entire world. When I was a little girl, not much older than you, my grandmother used to tell me stories about the Avatar."

Blue eyes flared wide with interest. "Gran-Gran told you stories about Daddy?"

"Well, the Avatar has been lots and lots of people over hundreds of years. Your daddy is just one of them," Katara explained, "The Avatar is reborn again and again and again and that's called the Avatar cycle."

"So Daddy used to be somebody else?"

"Yes. He was a firebender named Roku."

"Like Uncle Zuko?"

"Yes. Just like Uncle Zuko."

"Did you know Daddy when he was a firebender?"

"No. That was a long, long time ago, before the war started."

"So, you only knew Daddy after you and Uncle Sokka found him in the ice?"

"Right," Katara replied, "It's important that the Avatar keeps being reborn because he or she is responsible for maintaining peace and balance in the world. It's a very big job."

"And that's what Daddy does?"

Katara nodded. "And that's why he can bend all of the elements and not just one, because he's a representative for all _four_ nations. He helps keep balance between them."

"Oh…"

"But, to answer your question from before," Katara continued, taking advantage of her daughter's altogether rare and pensive silence, "Yes, your daddy was picked to be the Avatar. He was chosen as soon as he was born."

"Who picked him?"

"The Avatar spirit."

Predictably, that answer only provoked further questions. Kya frowned. "What's that, Mama?"

"Do you know how sometimes Daddy's eyes and tattoos will glow?"

Kya jerked a nod and shuddered, quickly burrowing her face in her mother's tunic as if she were attempting to hide from the memory. Although she had only witnessed that incredible event once in her short lifetime it had been enough for her to decide that she _never_ wanted to see her father in that state again. "I don't like when he does that. It scares me, Mama."

"I know it does, little bug. Sometimes it scares me too," Katara admitted gently, "But remember how we told you the story about Daddy being trapped in an iceberg for 100 years?" Kya nodded, her face still hidden in the folds of Katara's clothing. "Well, that's what kept Daddy alive until your uncle and I found him. _That_ glow is the Avatar spirit."

Kya lifted her head, her brow creased thoughtfully. "And it lives inside Daddy?"

"Yes, it lives inside of Daddy."

"Did it ask him for permission to be there?" Kya wondered.

"Not exactly."

"Does Daddy want it to be there?"

"Not exactly," Katara hedged.

"So it's a _bad_ spirit then," Kya concluded with a fierce scowl of indignation, clearly prepared to do battle with the unseen entity for daring to impose itself on her father. "How do we make it go away?"

"No, it's not a bad spirit. It's a _good_ spirit. The Avatar Spirit helps Daddy protect the world."

"But you said Daddy doesn't want it to live inside of him," Kya reasoned, "That's not nice. Maybe he wants it to go away but it won't. I bet that must make him sad."

"You're right. Sometimes having the Avatar Spirit inside of him _doe_s make your daddy sad because he has to be away from home so much and away from us," Katara acknowledged, "But, Kya, it's not that simple. The Avatar Spirit chose your father because there was something special in him, something that drew it to him. He didn't choose that and the Avatar Spirit didn't choose that. It just is and so, when Daddy was born, it was just meant for them to come together."

"You mean like you and Uncle Sokka were meant to find Daddy in the ice?" Kya considered with surprising intuition, a fact that momentarily astounded her mother.

"Yeah…something like that, little bug."

Kya took a few moments to digest all she'd just learned, her small mouth pursed in thoughtful consideration. Finally she said after some silence, "I don't want the Avatar Spirit to live inside of me, Mama. I just want to airbend."

"You don't like being a waterbender?"

"No. I do! But I want to be _both_!"

"But that's the thing, Kya. You can only bend one element at a time if the Avatar spirit doesn't live inside you," Katara told her, "So, you see, you won't ever be able to airbend like your dad."

"Never ever?"

Katara shook her head, hoping to soothe the disillusionment that irrefutable truth was likely to cause with a tender kiss to Kya's temple. "Never ever." She prepared herself for Kya's disappointed tears and was mentally searching for the right words of encouragement to offer her but, instead of melting into noisy sobs as Katara expected, Kya reacted with childish indignation instead.

"But if I don't learn how to airbend then how can I make an air scooter, Mama?" she reasoned, throwing up her hands in exasperation, "You can't make a water scooter! I tried it. It doesn't work! You just get wet!"

"Is that what this is all about?" Katara guffawed, torn somewhere between outright laughter and face-palming, "You want to make an air scooter?"

Kya nodded vigorously. "I want to make an air scooter and then I'll go really, really, _really_ fast, faster than Appa and Jalus and Teeva and then me and Daddy can race and then…and then," she rambled in breathless anticipation, "…I can beat him, Mama!"

Despite being a little stunned by Kya's response, Katara was also infinitely relieved as well. At first, she had feared that either she or Aang had inadvertently done or said something to make Kya feel that she was lacking somehow due to her inability to airbend. It was something that both she and Aang always tried to be conscious of and were strictly careful to avoid discussing whenever she was within earshot. In fact, Katara knew that was actually one of Aang's biggest hang-ups and one of the main reasons why he was always so reluctant to discuss the possibility of them having an airbender in the future.

Firstly, he didn't want to get his hopes up about the prospect because he knew based on Tsering's history that the likelihood was slim. And secondly, he didn't want to put himself in a position where he might unknowingly project any misplaced disappointment about it onto their future children. Those theoretical children didn't deserve that and Kya most definitely didn't either. For the reason, Aang was insistent that he and Katara wait to have more children because he wanted to be certain that they were doing it for the right reasons and not because they were trying to resurrect his dead race.

"I don't want it to turn into some obsession for an airbender," he'd often told her, "I want us to enjoy being parents, Katara. We should have children because we want them, not because we're chasing after something that might not ever happen anyway. If we have an airbender, then great but if not…if having children becomes about anything more than expanding our family, then it's not for the right reasons, airbenders or not."

And so, for that reason, they had been careful to take steps to avoid another pregnancy and, instead, concentrated all of their free time and attention on their daughter and raising her in the best possible way they knew how. Thus far, it didn't seem that they had done too bad of a job of it. If Kya was any indication, the two of them were finally gaining some mastery over the whole parenting thing.

"So, if I'm to understand this correctly," Katara summarized in conclusion, "You've been trying to teach yourself airbending in the hopes of making an air scooter in the hopes of going faster in the hopes of ultimately beating your father in a race. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes." Kya regarded her with a solemn expression, as if such a venture was completely rational. In the mind of a three year old, Katara supposed that it was.

"Oh, Kya, I don't know if-"

"—No, Mama, you don't understand!" she ranted with a determined glare because she correctly sensed that her mother was about to try to talk her out of it, "Every time! Every time we race, Daddy _always_ beats me but it's not fair because he's bigger and stronger and his legs are too long! And he _cheats_!"

Once again, Katara didn't know if she should laugh or attempt to calm her. The fact that Kya displayed such a competitive spirit was not surprising to her in the least. After all, she took after her father in that regard, especially when it came to anything related to fun and games. It also didn't help that Aang refused to let Kya win even one race. According to Aang, he would be doing her a disservice if he did that and, by continually setting the challenge of beating him before her, he was actually motivating her to give her best. On the surface, it sounded like loving, parental insight. However, Katara wondered if she were to dig deeper if she wouldn't discover that her husband simply didn't like the idea of losing, even if it was to his three year old daughter.

"I can see you feel very strongly about this," Katara observed, biting back a grin.

"I _do_ feel strongly! Will you help me to beat him?"

Katara favored her daughter with a wide, conspiratorial smile. "Little bug, I would _love_ to help you," she said, "Now, this is what I think we should do…"

Another hour passed before Aang finally arrived home from his latest trip to Republic City. In that time, not only had Katara and Kya devised a plan for beating him at his own game but they had also managed to feed all the animals, plant new buds for the garden and squeeze in a bath for Kya (though she hadn't been too thrilled with that part at all). However, as soon as they heard Appa's signaling bellow, they ran out into the courtyard to greet Aang. He was waiting for them with open arms and they gladly flew into his embrace. Kya tackled one leg, while Katara wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.

"How are my two most favorite girls in the whole, wide world?" he laughed, squeezing them both against him, "It's really good to be home."

It had been a year since he and Katara had decided that she and Kya wouldn't travel so extensively with him any longer and, despite having made many, many trips without them in that time, Aang found that being apart from them hadn't gotten any easier. He continued to miss them just as acutely as he had when those long separations first began. He hadn't realized how much light and life they had brought to those endless journeys until the space was suddenly empty of their presence. Even Appa noticed a difference and was often subdued whenever they were away.

In the hopes of lessening the time they would have to spend apart because he truly despised being away from his family, Aang had made an arrangement with Zuko that he would travel to the Fire Nation or Republic City for business only once a month to conduct business, barring any other crisis of course, and would stay no longer than 7 to 10 days. Thus far, the arrangement had worked rather well, despite the regular conflicts requiring his attention that continued to crop up around the world.

And while he carried out his duties as Avatar, Katara would often spend her time in the South Pole serving as a waterbending instructor for their daughter, their nephew and the newest generation of Southern Waterbenders. When she wasn't in the South Pole, she and Kya would travel with Jinpa, Jampa and Anil to the various air temples to oversee the reconstruction work going on there. They both kept themselves busy while carrying out their respective responsibilities but when it was time to come together as a family again they always gravitated back to the Southern Air Temple. They _always_ returned home.

Aang couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and relief on how well he and Katara had perfected their new dynamic. Their marital journey together hadn't always been the smoothest but he didn't regret a single moment he had spent with her. He would gladly endure every fight, every harsh word, every tear all over again as long as it led him back to exactly where he was right then…in her arms.

Feeling a little overwhelmed and definitely sentimental, Aang nuzzled a kiss across Katara's temple and whispered, "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

Katara tipped back her head to seek his lips in a tender kiss. "I've missed you too," she murmured.

He might have kissed her again, more deeply that time, if Kya hadn't chosen that moment to tug on the leg of his trousers. Aang glanced down to find his daughter regarding him with an impatient expression. "Daddy, you can kiss Mama later," she declared impudently, "I want my present now."

"Who said I brought you a present?" Aang challenged.

This was a game they always played and, as per usual, Kya wasn't having any of it. She plunked her hands on her hips and blew out a long, exasperated sigh. "You _always_ bring presents."

"Well, maybe I didn't this time. _Maybe_ I don't like the idea that you find me so predictable. _Maybe_ I don't like this expectation that you seem to have that I have to always get you a present. _Maybe_-,"

"—Daddy!"

"Okay, okay," he relented when she actually stamped her foot in growing outrage, "Come help me unload Appa and we'll get them."

"It had better not be another animal, Aang," Katara warned direly as she followed after him, "Or I might have to throw you off this mountain."

Fortunately, Katara didn't have to follow through with that threat. Rather than adding to their seemingly endless brood of mouths to feed, Aang instead had purchased Kya a set of jeweled Fire Nation hair beads. "Now you can have hair loopies like your mom," he told her. While Kya preened and squealed and begged Katara to put them in her hair immediately, Aang added in a low tone, "I brought _you_ a present too…but it will have to wait until we're alone later."

"I think I'm already familiar with _that_ present, airbender."

Aang watched with amused affection as Katara gamely arranged Kya's hair with the gleaming beads, marveling over how similar the two of them looked but Aang also saw clear glimmers of himself in his daughter as well. Although Katara and Kya were comparable in coloring with the same bright blue eyes and caramel colored skin, Kya's smile, which was often mischievous, as if she was always on the verge of pulling some prank, was all him. She had his sentimental heart but her mother's fierce drive. She was a complete amalgamation of them both, the best parts of them. He loved her so much that his chest ached with the feeling. His little girl, this charming, beautiful, quixotic, feisty mix of him and the woman he adored, she was absolutely his greatest accomplishment and the thing he was most proud of.

"Daddy, why are you smiling at me like that?" Kya asked quizzically when she became aware of his scrutiny.

He snapped to attention, unaware that he had been. "Oh? I was smiling?"

Fondly recalling a similar exchange she'd had with Aang many years ago, Katara favored her husband with a brief, knowing look before turning her attention back to her current task. "So what do you want to do after I finish with your hair?" she asked Kya.

"I think we should go bison racing," Kya announced with unnatural brightness, "Can we do that, Daddy?" She turned a clearly devious smile up at her mother. "Don't you think that's a good idea, Mama?"

Katara groaned inwardly over Kya's obviousness. It was clear that her daughter did not have a future career in the theater. Fortunately, her father seemed oblivious to her affected tone and, therefore, had absolutely no idea that he was being set up for failure by his "two most favorite girls in the whole, wide world."

"I think bison racing is a great idea," Aang replied, "But you can't cry and pout when I beat you this time, Kya. No one likes a sore loser."

"I won't cry this time," Kya told him, "I promise."

"Aang, she's three years old," Katara chided him mildly, "Would it kill you to let her win just once? Can't you take it easy on her?"

"She's _three and a half_," he emphasized without a hint of remorse, "And I take it easy on no man, woman or _child_ when it comes to bison racing. It's serious business, Katara."

"You are a shameless man…and you're going down."

"Yeah, Daddy! You're going _down_!"

It had taken quite a bit of convincing on Katara's part to get Kya to go with Jalus for the race. Although, the young adult female bison was fast, her older brother Teeva was faster and would likely do a better job of holding his own against a more experienced, more agile Appa. However, Jalus had one advantage going for her that Teeva did _not_ have. She was a female. More specifically, she was a female bison in whom Appa had shown considerable interest.

"Trust me, little bug," she had assured her daughter with unshakeable confidence, "Appa won't want to beat Jalus in the race. He'll want to _chase_ her instead."

"You mean like Daddy chases you?"

"_Exactly_ like Daddy chases me."

And she hadn't been wrong. True to form, as Jalus soared gracefully through the cloudless sky, guided by Kya's cries to press onward, go faster, Appa had trailed behind them in a lovesick haze, impervious to Aang's frustrated demands for him to "get it together." And thus, the race was over before it had ever really begun. By the time they returned to the air temple Katara and Kya were laughing over their ingenuity, Aang was grumbling over Appa's lack of concentration, Appa had courtship on his mind and Jalus was trying to decide if she was in the mood to be courted.

"I don't think that was a fair race," Aang announced when they were back on the ground again, "We had a long journey and Appa was tired. Plus, I think he might have a thing for Jalus so he was distracted. I want a rematch."

"Daddy, remember…don't pout," Kya reprimanded him with an impish smile, "No one likes a sore loser."

"Oh, you little smartypants, I'll give you a sore loser," he growled playfully, snatching her up into his arms to pepper her face with tickling kisses.

Soon after that, the three of them sat down for an early dinner and Kya spent the entire time prattling on about everything Aang had missed in the last eight days. Her mother valiantly coaxed her to take bites of her dinner in between breaths. Once she had gotten most of the meal down, Aang and Kya helped Katara clear away the remnants from their dinner before doing a final walkthrough together to check on the animals. By the time dusk had fallen Kya was drooping with exhaustion and ready for bed.

As was their usual routine when he was home, Aang and Katara tucked their little girl into bed together. They had designated the empty room next to their bedroom as hers, though Kya rarely spent the entire night there. Still, they persisted in putting her to sleep in her own room, hoping that one night she might decide to remain there.

After she was situated, Aang started to tell her a story, another routine of theirs, but when he began building suspense and creating the setting for his grand tale by adding sound effects with the use of his bending as he normally did, Kya yawned broadly and said, "Daddy, your story is too long. Can we skip to the good part tonight? I'm sleepy."

Katara stifled her snicker behind her hand at Aang's insulted expression. "Okay, little bug," he relented when he saw that Kya had closed her eyes and was already drifting, "We'll try again tomorrow."

"That's good," she mumbled, "Night-Night, Daddy. Love you."

Aang brushed a quick kiss across her forehead. "Love you too."

"Don't make that face," Katara laughed as she and Aang retired to their bedroom together, "She was just tired tonight."

"But she always loves it when I make the crumbling sound for the mountains," Aang pouted, "And then when I make fire for the volcanic eruptions. It was always her favorite." He sat down onto the bed to remove his shoes but then paused abruptly when a sudden and terrifying thought occurred to him. "Maybe she's outgrowing me."

Katara sucked in a mock gasp of dismay. "Oh, whatever will you do if you lose your playmate? Act like an adult? How horrifying!" When he made a face at her that was clearly unamused, Katara merely laughed and sat down beside him. "She's not outgrowing you, Aang. You wore her out tonight. You don't have to feel obligated to cram in 150 activities just because you missed eight days with her."

"I don't feel obligated to do that."

"But you _do_ admit that you cram in 150 activities," Katara countered with a grin.

Aang grinned back. "Guilty as charged."

Katara nudged him with her shoulder. "Hey. Guess what?"

"What?"

"Kya was trying to teach herself airbending earlier today." Aang's smile faltered abruptly, his mind automatically veering to a negative space over that admission. Katara read his thoughts easily. "No, don't do that," she said before he could begin castigating himself, "Don't start blaming yourself or feeling guilty. It wasn't anything _you_ did, Aang. You didn't put any pressure on her. She just wants to be like you. She even _moves_ like you do. I've _never_ seen a waterbender who bends the way she does."

"I know. She moves like an airbender," Aang agreed, his eyes gleaming with pride before quickly darkening again, "But, I just…I don't want Kya to think that she's lacking in anyway. I don't want her to ever feel like she's not enough, Katara."

"She doesn't feel that way. Kya is your whole world and she is very well aware of that fact."

"_You're_ my whole world," he whispered.

"And you're mine," she whispered in return. But before Aang could come seeking a kiss, she reared back from him and said, "So where's this supposed present you brought me?"

"Oh, I left it downstairs!" Aang recalled, surging to his feet, "I'll be right back."

Before Katara could even open her mouth to tell him to leave it, that he could give it to her in the morning, he had already jumped out of their bedroom window. Katara shook her head and muttered to herself, "I really hate it when he does that."

A few minutes later, Aang reappeared in the window with a brown parchment wrapped package under his arm and an indescribable expression on his face. When he remained perched there, his forehead creased with an uneasy frown, Katara asked, "What's wrong? Why do you look like that?"

"Um…well…it seems that Appa has…er…well…finally convinced Jalus that he's the one for her," Aang replied awkwardly as he jumped down from the windowsill, "That was more than I needed to see, Katara." He shuddered for emphasis.

Katara threw her head back with a hearty laugh when she imagined the eyeful he must have received. "Think of it as payback for all the times _we_ did in front of _him_."

"I don't think it's quite the same thing but…whatever. Let's move on," Aang complained, "Here's your present."

She took the package and leapt onto the bed with a low squeal of delight, eager to discover what he had brought her. Aang followed her lead, eager to watch her reaction to what he had brought her. Katara hurriedly ripped away the parchment with nimble fingers to reveal a diaphanous, floor-length nightgown that was a gleaming white, adorned with crimson, satin ribbons and tiny, sparkling crystals and rubies that shimmered in the flickering firelight of their bedroom. She held it against her body with a soft exhalation of awe.

"Oh, Aang, it's so beautiful!"

"Apparently, it's all the rage in the Fire Nation. Zuko took me to one of the shops there."

"Did he now?" Katara murmured knowingly, "And what kind of _shop_ was that exactly?"

He blinked at her in wide eyed innocence. "I was there on your behalf only, beautiful wife."

Katara grunted her skepticism of that claim but was distracted from scolding him as she inspected the intricate beading and detailed stitching of the delicate garment. She held the gown aloft again, noting for the first time how very sheer it was. "It's really see through. This won't cover anything."

Aang favored her with a lascivious smile. "I know."

Katara regarded him with a deadpan expression. "Oh, I see how this works. You gave _yourself_ a present."

Not bothering to deny that charge at all, Aang urged her in an impatient whisper, "Put it on for me."

"Why? So you can take it right off?" Katara challenged. The sultry invitation in her tone was unmistakable.

"Yeah," he answered, leaning forward to give her the kiss they both wanted, "Exactly…"

After Katara had left Aang spent and satisfied from her official "welcome home" she rolled from their bed to search for something more substantial to put on. "What are you doing?" Aang muttered drowsily, frowning as he watched her shrug into another, sturdier nightgown. "Don't do that. Come back to bed."

"Kya's going to be in here in another hour or two," she reminded him, "Do you really want to be butt naked when she crawls into bed with us?"

Aang groaned and grumbled and whined over the reminder but had little choice but to concede her point. He dutifully climbed from the bed to pull on his discarded trousers. "Do you remember when we used to sleep naked?" he reminisced when he and Katara were cuddled together beneath the covers once more, "I loved that."

"I remember when we used to do _a lot_ of things naked."

"Me too. I miss that," Aang lamented.

"Well, unfortunately, it's not going to happen again until Kya starts sleeping through the night in her own bed," Katara considered, "Until then, we probably shouldn't risk it."

"Maybe she needs a smaller bed. If she had something that was more her size then maybe she wouldn't feel so overwhelmed. She's always saying her bed is too big."

"It's possible. We should talk to Sokka about it. He and Suki went through the same thing with Anik but he said that ever since he made Anik his own bed that he's been sleeping on his own through the night."

"I'll ask the next time I see him."

"Good plan."

"I actually feel bad for him, you know. He just got one kid out of his bed and now they find out that Suki is pregnant again. That's got to be rough."

Yet in spite of all of his complaining to the contrary, when Aang awakened in the middle of the night to find Kya predictably wedged between him and her mother and sleeping soundly, he reached over to gently smooth her mess of hair back from her face and found that he didn't mind having her there. Not at all.

**~End~**


	9. To Make a Family Grow

**To Make a Family Grow **

"Rise and shine, Daddy! This is your official Kya wakeup call!"

Aang was getting very used to waking up to his daughter's incessant chatter and that particular morning was no different, even if she was a bit more boisterous than usual. He had to assume that Kya had pulled her usual middle of the night routine and snuck into his and Katara's tent long after he'd fallen asleep but he couldn't be sure. In fact, he remembered very little of the previous night beyond arriving at the South Pole in the small hours of the morning, landing Appa just outside of Kanna's village and crawling into the tent with Katara. He vaguely recalled stretching out beside her, pulling her close and mumbling an "I love you." That was all.

He had ample reason to be tired too. His latest trip into Republic City had been a nightmare and burdened with conflict. The five day quick turnaround that Aang had initially anticipated had lengthened into an eighteen day crisis that didn't seem to have an immediate end in sight. It had been growing increasingly apparent over the past several months that Republic City's police force needed a complete overhaul. The current force was severely understaffed and overworked. Crime and dissent remained on a steady increase despite their unceasing efforts to keep law and order.

Zuko had offered to send in firebenders to help maintain the peace but Aang had been leery of the optics that might present to the general public. He knew his friend wanted to help and appreciated Zuko's willingness to lend his manpower, especially because he knew that the young Firelord was just as invested in the success of the URN as he was but, they weren't too far out from the 10 year anniversary of the war's end. Sending firebenders into a territory that many still remembered as being land forcibly taken by the Fire Nation probably wasn't the keenest idea, good intentions aside. Aang knew he needed a better solution but trying to come to an agreement about that solution was proving to be problematic. The only time the city seemed to settle into some semblance of calm was when Aang was present, partly due to his unparalleled ability to reason with unreasonable people and partly due to the reality that no one wanted to anger the Avatar.

Still, Aang couldn't stay in Republic City on a permanent basis nor did he _want_ to stay there, though the suggestion had been made to him on numerous occasions by numerous people. But Aang didn't see the benefit. His family was in the southern hemisphere of the world. His home was there. He needed to make sure that the citizens of the United Republic of Nations were safe from internal and external conflicts but he didn't necessarily want to be the one to personally oversee that. And so, like many leaders before him, he had tried to delegate the responsibility to those in oversight who _could_ be there to provide personal oversight. So far, that plan wasn't working out very well and Aang was beginning to get frustrated.

It also didn't help that prolonged absences from his wife and daughter generally made him cranky regardless of the length of time he spent away from them but this latest trip had made him exceptionally irritable. He couldn't really focus on the issue at hand because he was too distracted by how long it was taking. Finally Toph and Sokka, having becoming generally fed up with Aang's foul mood, ordered him to take a few days in the South Pole for some much needed rest and relaxation with his family while they held down the fort in Republic City. And even though he was supposed to return in four days' time, Aang had gratefully taken them up on their offer and had flown through the night to get back to Katara and Kya.

For that reason, despite the fact that she had fairly shouted in his ear, Aang couldn't help but smile with abundant contentment when he opened his eyes and found his daughter smiling back at him. "Hello, little bug," he croaked in greeting, "You're very chipper this morning."

"I've been waiting a thousand and one hundred years for you to wake up," Kya announced dramatically. Without waiting for an invitation (which she never did), she stretched out beside him and crossed her moccasin clad feet at the ankles. "You've been asleep forever! It's already lunchtime."

"Really? It is?" As if to confirm the time, his stomach suddenly grumbled loudly.

Kya smirked at him. "See? I told you, Daddy. Even your tummy knows it's late."

Aang squinted at her with a sour expression before contorting his body in a bone-cracking stretch. As he did so, he looked about the tent and gradually realized that he and Kya were alone. The interior of the tent was neat and orderly, a sure sign that his wife had been present at some point but where she had gone to Aang didn't know. He turned to his daughter for answers.

"Where's your mom?"

"Feeding Appa and Momo," Kya replied, shifting onto her side. She propped herself up onto her elbow to regard him. "She said I should let you rest but…we're _never_ going to go penguin sledding if you keep sleeping, Daddy."

"Okay, okay," Aang grunted. He halfheartedly yielded to the mild rebuke in Kya's tone and swung upright to scrub the remnants of sleep from his eyes. "I'm up now. I'm up."

Despite his reassurance, however, it looked to Kya as if he could fall backwards and begin snoring again at any moment. Her suspicions were confirmed when, mere seconds after sitting up, he flopped back against his pallet and closed his eyes again. "Just give me ten more minutes, sweetie." She growled at him impatiently. "Okay. Five more minutes," he amended before adding with a beseeching pout, "Please? Daddy's so tired." _Non-stop stress and 24 hours without sleep tended to do that to a person_, he reminded himself.

"Okay, but only five minutes," Kya finally relented with a great deal of reluctance. Despite her magnanimity, Aang wasn't at all surprised when she continued to linger after making her concession. "Did you have a good trip?"

He answered without ever opening his eyes. "Nope. It was bad. Terrible. Horrible. Worst trip ever."

"Aww, Daddy. You're so funny," Kya giggled, "Why was it so terrible?"

Aang parted his lids briefly to favor her with a sleepy smile. "Because I missed you and your mom so much and I get grumpy when we're not together."

Kya gasped, clearly finding the concept of a "grumpy Daddy" completely absurd. "Daddy, now you're being silly! You're never grumpy! You're the happiest person I know!"

"Sometimes I _do_ get grumpy," he insisted sleepily, "If the conditions are right…_kinda like right now_…"

Of course, his subtle sarcasm sailed right over his daughter's head. "Daddy, I think you work too much," Kya considered thoughtfully, "That's why you're so tired all the time."

He grunted, partly in agreement, partly in amusement and partly in disbelief over her audacity. "Yeah, well…we agree on that."

"You need to find another job."

"If only it were that simple." He hoped that she finally would let him sleep now that she'd gotten those pertinent thoughts off of her chest but as soon as he started to close his eyes again, Kya called his name once more. Her introspective tone forewarned him of the probability that sleep was likely not an option anymore. Aang expelled a heavy sigh. "What is it, Kya? I thought you were supposed to be letting me sleep a bit longer."

"It hasn't been five minutes yet?" Kya considered in surprise.

"Bug, it hasn't even been _five seconds_ yet," Aang yawned ironically, "You haven't stopped talking this entire time."

"Oh…well, just one more question, Daddy, and then I'll leave you alone. Promise."

"Sure," he said, closing his eyes once more, "Fine. Ask away."

"Can you give me a baby sister?"

Aang's eyes flew open. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, his drowsiness and fatigue vanishing in an instant. He blinked at his daughter who was looking up at him with an artless, owl-eyed expression. "I'm sorry. You want me to what now?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"I've been thinking about it," Kya said, "And I'm ready to be a big sister." She ticked off all the points of her arguments on her fingers. "I'm a good teacher and a good listener and I can tie my own shoes and I know 42…wait, is it 44…no, it's 42…42 different bending techniques. I'm also really smart-,"

"—and modest too, apparently," Aang added in amused aside.

"And I'm funny and I'm good with animals and…and this is the _most important part_," Kya concluded expansively, "I'm almost four years old!"

"Why is that the most important part?"

"Because Anik is only _three years old_ and _he's_ going to be a big brother!" she argued with a petulant scowl, "Did you know that, Daddy? Did you know that Anik was going to be a big brother? How is that fair that he gets to a baby before I do? I'm the oldest! I should be first!"

"Well, it doesn't quite work that way, Kya. Anik didn't decide when he wanted to become a big brother. Your Uncle Sokka and Aunt Suki did."

"So then, why can't you and Mama decide to make _me_ a big sister?" she argued.

"Kya, that's a big decision."

"Why?"

"Because growing a family means more responsibility."

"I can help," Kya gamely volunteered, "I can feed the baby and take it for walks and play with it just like I do with all my animals. Really, Daddy, I can do it! I'm a really good helper!"

"Um…well…have you talked to your mother about this at all?" Aang hedged.

Kya nodded. "She said I needed to ask you."

Somehow, Aang wasn't surprised by that answer. "I'll just bet she did," he replied with a tight smile, making a mental note to throttle Katara later.

"So, will you, Daddy?" Kya implored, commanding her father's wandering thoughts once more, "Will you give me a baby sister? I promise I won't ask for anything else for the rest of my whole life!"

"I don't know, Kya…I would have to discuss it with your mother…and well, it's not something we should do without a plan and…"

"I want the new baby for my birthday present."

"Sweetie, your birthday is in three months," Aang reasoned with her mildly, "It's going to take a baby a lot longer to come than that."

"How long does it take?"

"Try ten months, sometimes less."

"Ten months!" she balked incredulously. Kya slapped both hands over her face with a low groan. "I'll never catch up to Anik! He'll have a 100 babies by the time I get just one!"

"Trust me, Anik won't have a hundred babies by then," he reassured her with a laugh, "It will take just as long for him as it will for you." When that explanation failed to appease her and she continued to pout, Aang couldn't repress his affectionate smile. He sympathized with her. He remembered reacting similarly when he learned how long it would take _he_r to get there. Consequently, he responded to her exactly the way Katara had responded to him. "That's just how it is, little bug," he told her with a shrug, "I don't make the rules."

For a brief moment, Kya appeared crestfallen by the news before she quickly rebounded and was already formulating a contingency plan. "Okay, you can give her to me when I'm five but I can't wait longer than that, Daddy. This is my final offer."

"Um…okay…"

While her stunned father was still trying to process how they had even ended up negotiating a sibling for her at all or why she seemed to think he'd _agreed_ to it, Kya rolled to her feet and smacked an affectionate kiss to Aang's whiskered cheek. "Thank you, Daddy! You can go back to sleep now." The last thing he heard as she skipped happily from the tent was her singing at the top of her lungs, "Gran-Gran, guess what? I'm going to be a big sister!"

Aang was still groaning about it when Katara burst inside the tent a few minutes later with a hounded expression. "What were you thinking?" she demanded, "Why on earth would you tell Kya that we were having a baby?"

"Um…_I_ didn't tell Kya anything," Aang replied with a pointed look.

"Then why was she out there telling Gran that she's going to be a big sister when she turns five? I just spent the last few minutes doing damage control."

"Oh, I don't know, Katara. You tell me," he said, his tone somewhat accusatory, "_You're_ the one who told her she should talk to _me_ if she wanted to be a big sister."

Katara had the grace to look chagrined at the reminder. "Oh. Yeah. That. It wasn't my intention to throw you under the tank, Aang…" she prefaced.

"Really?"

"Okay…okay, so this is what happened. She caught me off guard and I didn't know what to say," Katara rambled, "And…and she's had this wild hair ever since she found out that Suki was having a baby and…she's been asking me over and over…'Why can't we have a baby, Mama? Why can't we have a baby?' And _you and I_ haven't really discussed it since we decided to hold off and…and well…?"

"Well what?"

Katara suddenly felt inexplicably shy in that moment, especially when Aang seemed to be scrutinizing her so closely. Her words were almost inaudible when she asked, "Do you think you might want to try for another baby?"

Aang bounced a stupefied glance from Katara, down at his groin and then back to Katara again. "You…you mean like _right this second_?" Though he was taken by surprise to learn that Katara had clearly been considering the idea for some time now, he was also a little stunned to realize he was amenable to it as well. Now that the suggestion had been planted in his mind, it was already beginning to take root in his heart. Even with everything so chaotic right then, Aang had no doubts that he wanted another baby with Katara.

"No, not _exactly_ this second," Katara clarified with an eye roll, "But yeah, I would like to try."

"So, what you're saying is…you would like to have another baby with me, _on purpose_ this time?" Aang queried meaningfully.

"Yes. I would like to have a baby with you on purpose."

"Well, come on then," Aang invited with a wide, feline grin, "No point in waiting, is there?" He whipped back the covers and quickly wrested his shirt over his head, flinging it aside. Once that was done, he reclined back into the rumpled linens with his hands stacked behind his head in blatant offering. "Get over here, little lady. I'm all yours."

His reward for his willing participation and eager spirit was, regrettably, a face full of the shirt he'd just discarded. "I don't mean _now_, you doofus," Katara laughed, "First of all, it's the middle of the day. And, second of all, the last time we did _that_ here we entertained the entire village. Not looking for round two of that debacle."

With burning humiliation, Katara could readily recall the painful conversation she'd had with her Gran following the aforementioned incident. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Katara," Kanna had declared matter-of-factly, "It's not the first time our village has been privy to the sounds of love between a married couple. Besides, you're blessed to have such a virile husband. It's a firm guarantee that you'll produce strong sons."

Katara shuddered with the memory. "Yeah, we're not doing that again."

"Well, when do you want to start trying?"

"How about when we go back to the air temple?" Katara suggested, "We're practically alone there anyway, except for some occasional visitors. We can do anything we want once Kya is asleep."

Aang groaned in consternation. "Unfortunately, I don't know when that's going to be, Katara," he informed her reluctantly, "I have to be back in Republic City in three days. I can't go home yet."

"What? But why?"

"The city is still having a lot of issues. We need to revamp the police force and that's going to take time."

Katara came to kneel beside him with a dejected sigh. She well understood the limitations placed on Aang's freedom due to his ever present duties as the Avatar but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't beginning to grow weary of sharing her husband. Resolved but somewhat petulant about the whole thing, Katara asked, "How much time do you think it will take?"

"I don't know. But I can't just leave it to Toph and Sokka to handle on their own," he reasoned, "It's not fair to them. They both have other things going on in their lives too. Toph has her metalbending academy. Sokka is expecting another baby. They're making the time to be there. I have to do the same."

"Sure. I understand."

But way she averted her eyes following that response and the telltale tightening of her jaw told a different story. "Do you?" Aang gently coaxed her gaze back to his. He was met with tumultuous blue eyes. "Are you mad at me?"

"Not mad," she denied in spite of her stony façade, "Just disappointed. I was looking forward to trying. That's all."

"We can still try," he reassured her, "It's just not going to happen as soon as we thought."

Katara perked at his reply. "So you haven't changed your mind? You still want to do it?"

"Yes! I can't wait to make a baby with you, Katara. Don't worry. I'm not changing my mind."

True to his word, Aang did _not_ change his mind although there were plenty of moments along the way when he wondered whether he should. It turned out that carving out the time needed to make a baby proved to be a trickier endeavor than either of them had anticipated. Often Aang and Katara found themselves in two completely different hemispheres and, whenever the sporadic opportunity for them to come together did arise, the time constraints placed upon them usually perpetuated a messy rush for them to get it done while they had the chance. Sex became a perfunctory chore rather than an act of sensual pleasure shared between two people who loved each other. They did it because they _had_ to and not always because they _wanted_ to. To make matters worse, when one month, then two, then Kya's fourth birthday and then yet another month passed without any success both Aang and Katara eventually started to buckle under the constant strain.

Throughout that period there were moments of creeping doubt and confusion, times when they weren't even certain if they should keep trying at all. There were points where they didn't even _want_ to try. There were tears and fights and blow-ups and bitter words of recrimination but those times were almost always followed by periods of regret, whispered apologies and promises to be better. Eventually, after weeks and weeks of turmoil, the couple _did_ decide to wait after all, not because they no longer wanted a child but because they realized the timing was off. Once the pressure of making a baby had lessened, their lovemaking resumed its usual fervor. They began to enjoy each other once again, unencumbered by any expectation beyond seeking and giving pleasure.

And, of course in a turn of supreme irony, it was exactly when Katara and Aang stopped trying to make a baby that they actually made one. After more than four months of effort without any success, six weeks of carefree indulgence had yielded what months of planning, potions and prayer had not. Aang and Katara both came to that stunning realization when they were in the middle of packing for a month long stay on Kyoshi Island with Sokka and Suki.

Following the birth of Sokka's second son, Tikaani, it became apparent that Suki was going to need assistance with the newborn. Since Sokka continually busy with Republic City business and, like Aang, had to be away from home fairly often, it made sense that Katara would stay with Suki while Sokka and Aang handled their duties in Republic City. The arrangement worked well for everyone involved because Kyoshi was relatively close to the Republic and Katara didn't have to worry about not seeing Aang for weeks at a time.

In return, Suki would have someone who help her manage the day to day with a newborn and a three year old underfoot. Sokka, in turn, could relax and have confidence in the knowledge that his family was in good hands while he was away. And, most importantly for all of them, they would have the rare opportunity to spend quality time together as a family. To say that Aang and Katara were excited about the trip would have been an understatement. The only person who might have outmatched their enthusiasm was Kya. She had been talking nonstop about the trip for days.

Because Katara knew they would be away for an extended period of time, she devised a checklist to ensure that the family left nothing vital behind. Over the course of the next few weeks, she anticipated being very busy with helping Suki with the baby and keeping up with Kya and Anik's waterbending lessons. There was also housework, meal preparation, errands and a dozen other things that would likely require her attention once they arrived in Kyoshi. Katara anticipated that she might even be so preoccupied that she would barely even have time to miss Aang. _Maybe…_

She was mentally strategizing her plan for handling a four year old, a three and half year old, a newborn, a hormonal new mother while managing an entire household when, without warning, a wave of dizziness and nausea assailed her. One moment, she was folding clothes into an overnight bag in between giving Aang detailed packing instructions (not that he was proving to be efficient at all). And the next moment the room was tilting crazily and she felt like she might actually faint. As she stumbled into a nearby nightstand, Aang quickly dashed to her side to steady her before she could topple over completely.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly as he carefully guided her over to the bed, "What just happened? You look really pale, Katara."

With wordless urgency, she pointed to a nearby pot at the foot of their bed, her frantic gesture and facial expression making it clear to Aang that she was about to be sick. He managed to get the basin under her chin just in time for Katara to empty all of the contents of her stomach into it. When it was finally over and she had rid herself of lunch and probably some remnants of her breakfast, Katara sat back and swiped a shaky hand across her mouth. Her entire body was trembling and when she looked at Aang he was still standing there, holding the basin and staring at her with an expression that could only be described as dubious.

"Would you like some water?" he asked rather dumbly.

"Please…"

With a grimace, he set aside the basin and retrieved a waterskin from one of their bags. He watched intently as Katara took careful sips, unconsciously shaking his head in disbelief as he did. "You've got to be kidding me right now," he uttered, already leaping to the most obvious conclusion.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Katara replied with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Maybe I just caught something."

"Really?" he scoffed, "That's what you think?"

Katara scowled at him. "It's possible!" she argued stubbornly, though her words lacked the heat of conviction.

"When's the last time you got your…you know…_woman's time_?" he asked.

Katara started to roll her eyes at his ridiculous phrasing when she suddenly realized she hadn't gotten it at all that previous month. And, when she began to do quick, mental calculations for the _current_ month, it suddenly dawned on her that she was late for that as well. Approximately five days late to be exact. "Maybe I'm just off on my count," she muttered to herself, only vaguely aware that Aang was beginning to get antsy. "Where's my calendar?"

Without waiting for instructions to do so, Aang began rummaging messily through their belongings for the scrap of parchment that Katara sometimes used to track her monthly menstrual cycle. Once it had been retrieved and Katara began perusing the notes she had written on it, Aang tried not to appear as nervous as he felt while she made her calculations. But the longer she was silent and each time her eyes would flare wide, the more anxious he became.

"So…" he pressed when she remained silent, "What's the verdict? When are you due for it?"

"Like…eight days ago actually," Katara chirped with an over-bright smile.

"So, you're late," Aang concluded in superfluous deliberation.

"I am."

"So, you're pregnant," he followed up with the same inflection in his tone.

"That is very likely."

"How likely?"

"I've only been late once before in my entire life."

"And when was that?"

"When I was pregnant with Kya."

Aang stumbled forward and dropped beside her on the bed. "Well. This is unexpected."

"Is it really though?" Katara considered, "I mean, we _were_ trying, Aang."

"And then we weren't," he reminded her.

"This is true." She fiddled with her hands for a bit before lifting her head to favor him with a shy, sideways smile. "But, for the record, I'm not sad about it."

He smiled back at her. "For the record, neither am I."

Katara flopped back onto the bed, limbs sprawled, her features soft with wonder and aglow with happiness. "We're actually going to have another baby," she rhapsodized, "I can't believe it."

Aang stretched out beside her and propped himself up onto his elbow to regard her with the same wonder-filled expression. "When do you think it happened?"

"Probably the night we decided to put it off for a while. And that was…what? Almost two months ago?" Katara considered, "It makes sense. You were…er…extra _giving_…that night."

"As I recall, you were in quite the 'giving' mood yourself," Aang reminded her with a meaningful look. Katara smothered her answering giggle against his shoulder and when she did Aang couldn't stop himself from pressing a kiss to the rumpled top of her head. "How do you feel?" he asked in a whisper.

"I feel good actually," she said, "Other than that weird moment that just happened, I've felt fine this whole time. That's why it didn't even occur to me. I'm not tired. My breasts don't hurt. I'm not nauseated at the smell of _everything_. It's nothing like it was with Kya."

"Is that okay? I mean, shouldn't you be having some symptoms?"

Katara shrugged. "Maybe not. Gran always says that every pregnancy is different."

"Your grandmother is going to flip out when we tell her," Aang laughed softly, "So is Kya." His eyes lit up at the thought. "I can't wait to see her face when we give her the news."

When he looked as if he actually intended to wake their daughter right then to tell her the news, Katara placed a hand on his forearm before he could be compelled to action. "Aang, wait a second," she urged softly, "I think we should hold off telling people for now."

Aang regarded her with a quizzical frown. "Why?"

Her reasoning on the matter was very simple but, unfortunately, it wasn't a simple explanation. She had learned over the years from assisting her grandmother with several births, that miscarriages and false pregnancies could be common. Miscarriages especially tended happened in early pregnancy, sometimes often before a woman could even be certain that she _was_ pregnant. It wasn't something that Katara was overtly fearful of but she wanted to proceed with a bit of caution given her knowledge on the subject. Plus, allowing another month to pass without her menstruation would be further confirmation of her pregnancy.

Katara, of course, could explain none of this to Aang because she knew that if she even _mentioned_ the word "miscarriage" he would have the freak-out to end all freak-outs. He'd fly into overprotective mode and there would be no reasoning with him. He very nearly drove her crazy with his constant hovering and fretting when she was pregnant with Kya. Better not to worry him about something that was hardly a remote possibility anyway. Instead, she focused on the latter part of her argument, specifically how it would prove prudent to wait another month for irrefutable proof that there was a baby.

"Once we're absolutely sure," she told him, "then we can make an announcement to everyone. But, for now, let's keep it between us."

"Okay, I get not telling our family and friends right now," Aang reasoned, "But what about Kya? You know how much she wants to be a big sister, Katara. It's all she talks about anymore."

"I know and I want to tell her just as much as you do. But we can't tell _anyone_ until we know for sure that I'm pregnant, _especially_ Kya. She'd blab it to the world and you know it."

"This is true." Their daughter's inability to keep a secret was legendary. In the past they had endured an abundance of embarrassing overshares courtesy of their chatty child. "You're right. We'll hold off telling her too."

"In the meantime, we should just act like nothing has changed. No picking out baby names or guessing at the sex or…or making baby clothes or furniture and especially no cutesy belly rubs. We're going to wait and see what happens. Let's keep a level head about this."

Her matter of fact tone left Aang scowling with outright skepticism. "But what else could it be?" he wondered, "You even said yourself that the only time you've ever missed your…your monthly time was when you were pregnant with Kya."

"Well, there are lots of other reasons why a woman could miss her monthly, Aang. Stress, illness, the change of life," Katara ventured in a reasoning tone, "It's not always due to pregnancy."

"Do you think it's one of those other things?"

"Nope," she replied with an arch smile, "Not really."

"So basically, what you're saying is…we're definitely having a baby, aren't we?"

Katara favored him with a widening smile, mercurially belying every argument she had made only five seconds earlier when she said, "Yeah. We're having a baby."

**~End~**


	10. Little Life Lessons

**Little Life Lessons **

"I can't believe it's been five weeks already. It feels like the time has just flown by."

Momentarily distracted from watching Kya and her three year old cousin Anik hop the flat, decorative stones that served as a footpath for Sokka and Suki's waterlily garden, Katara laughed at the wistfulness she detected in Suki's tone. "You don't have to be so polite, Suki," she told her, "You and I are beyond that now. I'm sure you're more than ready to have your house back."

"Not at all," Suki said, surprising Katara when she suddenly embraced her tightly, "I'm really going to miss having you here, Katara."

"Aww, Suki," Katara replied, blinking back the sudden tears that burned in her eyes as she hugged her back, "I'm going to miss you too."

While the two women had always gotten along quite well in the past and had held a measure of affable affection for one another, neither of them would have ever described themselves as particularly close friends. They were family. They were _sisters_ but true, deep friendship that stretched beyond familial bonds seemed like another beast altogether. Granted, Suki had always liked Katara and vice versa. The Kyoshi warrior appreciated the waterbender's no nonsense approach to life and her nurturing spirit. Katara, in turn, had always admired Suki's fearlessness and resiliency. She had never doubted that Suki was the perfect wife and life partner for her brother but, despite her admiration, she had never taken the opportunity to get to know Suki on a very personal level either.

By the time Suki and Sokka had been getting more serious in their courtship so had Katara and Aang. Though the couples had spent a majority of their time together back in those early days following the end of the war, both young women had been relatively distracted by their respective boyfriends. As those romantic relationships deepened and evolved, the chance Suki and Katara had to build a deepened friendship between them lessened.

Life meandered onward and eventually Katara and Aang were married and went to live at the Southern Air Temple. A little more than six months after that, Suki and Sokka were also married and splitting most of their time between Kyoshi Island and the South Pole. As expected, married life had ultimately taken both couples in diverging directions which hadn't afforded them with much time to spend together except for when the family was gathered for special celebrations, like weddings and births. None of those occasions, however, had lent themselves to Katara and Suki forming a more substantial connection between them…until now.

After five weeks of almost constant proximity, Katara and Suki had been gifted with the rare chance to witness one another at their strongest…and at their most vulnerable. Their respect and appreciation for one another had only grown exponentially in that time. They had laughed together, cried together and shared secrets with one another that they had never breathed aloud to another living soul, not even their own husbands. In doing so, they discovered that they had much more in common than they could have ever known. After having shared such a profound experience, the two of them were much more than family now. They were very good friends and neither of them had any doubts that they always would be.

"I still wish you and Aang would change your mind about moving to Republic City with me and Sokka," Suki said when they parted, "even if it's only temporary. I don't know how I'll manage without you."

"You'll be fine," Katara reassured her, "You've got this, Suki. Besides, I've told you already. My home is at the Southern Air Temple. Aang and I could never leave there."

It was an old, repetitive debate that she and Suki had been having for several days now, and more frequently too as the day for her departure grew ever closer. Suki could clearly see the wisdom in relocating and she was determined to make Katara see it too. Though it had taken quite a bit of personal wrestling on Suki's part, because the last thing she wanted to do was to uproot her family and leave her beloved Kyoshi Island, she'd finally yielded to Sokka's suggestion that their family permanently relocate to Republic City. Once she accepted the unavoidable truth that she didn't want to continue living apart from her husband, making the decision to leave Kyoshi Island behind had been easy. And because she knew that Aang and Katara were in a similar predicament, she firmly believed that the solution would work for them as well. So did Sokka. Unfortunately, both Aang and Katara remained adamantly opposed to the idea.

"I don't get it," Suki sighed, stubbornly unwilling to let the matter die, "Aang spends like 40% of his time in Republic City as it is. Living there would definitely cut down on all the back and forth travel he does. That has to have gotten old for him by now…and _you_, for that matter."

"You're really not going to let this go, are you?" Katara chuckled.

After taking a moment to sooth her fussy infant, who was sporadically napping in the portable bassinette next to her, Suki favored Katara with a sheepish smile. "Well, I am highly motivated here. If you hadn't been here to help me these last few weeks, I'm pretty sure I would have lost my marbles completely."

Suki wasn't exaggerating either. Before Katara and Aang had arrived she had been hanging on to her sanity by a thread. She had been in the midst of recovering from a long and difficult birth, struggling to maintain a household, care for a newborn and wrangle an exuberant three year old focused on testing the limits of his bending ability _and_ she had been doing all of that practically on her own because Sokka had been tied up with Republic City business. As a result of so much stress, Suki had been tearful, angry, woefully sleep-deprived and very nearly on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Katara's arrival had quite literally saved her and Suki would always be grateful for all she had done. She said as much to Katara.

"Is it any wonder I want you to stick around?" she joked, "Not that I don't love having your companionship too but you're a pretty awesome co-parent, Katara."

"Thanks. But I'm pretty sure once you and Sokka get settled into a routine after the move, everything will be smooth sailing," Katara replied, "Besides, now that you have Tikaani on a regular feeding schedule you should have an easier time with him."

"But I would _definitely_ have an easier time if you moved to Republic City," Suki wheedled shamelessly.

Katara expelled a lonsuffering sigh. "Suki, we've discussed this at length already."

"And I haven't given up on changing your mind. I still have another hour before you and Aang head back home. Just look at our babies, Katara," Suki cajoled, nodding over to where Kya and Anik were bending orbs of water from the pond where they were playing and chucking them at one another mercilessly, "They're so happy together. Do you really want to break that up?"

"I think you mean that _Kya_ is happy to terrorize Anik day and night," Katara replied dryly, "She drives him crazy and you know it."

"Eh…he could do with being driven a little crazy sometimes," Suki replied with a dismissive wave, "Goodness knows he keeps Sokka and me on our toes with his constant antics." It was well known among their family how challenging Sokka and Suki were finding it to raise a bender. Kya served as a welcome distraction to her energetic cousin which provided a much needed reprieve for Anik's beleaguered parents.

"Don't worry. It will get better once he gains more control over his abilities," Katara assured her, "Trust me. He's already showing real promise in his lessons."

"Thank you again for taking the time to teach him, Katara," Suki said, "I don't know what Sokka and I would have done if you hadn't stepped in. See? This is yet _another_ reason why you and Aang need to move to Republic City with us. Wouldn't it be easier to continue with Anik's lessons if you're not halfway around the world?"

"You just don't quit, do you?"

"I'm just saying there are a lot of pros to be considered here…"

"Listen, Suki, this move is clearly a good thing for you and Sokka," Katara reasoned, her tone mild but firm, "and I'm glad for you. It's clear that you both _want_ it but it's different for me and Aang. We like where we are now but it isn't just about preference for us. The Southern Air Temple is one of the last few connections that Aang has left to his people, his heritage. It's important to him, to _us_ to build our life there and raise our family there, especially now that I'm…" She abruptly trailed off into silence and bit her lip when she realized what she had been about to say.

True to their agreement, she and Aang had not breathed a word about her newest pregnancy to anyone and keeping that secret had grown increasingly difficult especially now that they had zero doubts that there _was_ a pregnancy. Katara's body, having already become acquainted with the rigors of carrying a child, was beginning to undergo a subtle metamorphosis in accommodation of the newest life growing within her. And although those minute changes weren't obvious to the outsider just yet, they were apparent to her and Aang. But knowing the truth and finding the right time to make the announcement to their friends and family were two very different things.

Katara was in the middle of formulating her thoughts about it when Suki smirked at her knowingly. "Finish your thought. Now that you're what, Katara?" she prodded when the waterbender continued to look flustered, "Now that you're going to have another baby?"

Because she saw very little point in denying the charge and she had been dying to tell Suki for weeks now anyway, Katara asked, "How did you know?"

Suki emitted a soft, scoffing laugh, as if she found the question to be ridiculous. "I've only had two children of my own already, Katara. I know the signs. You have to pee like 15 times a day. Either you have the most fickle bladder in the world or you're pregnant."

"Well, so much for being discreet," Katara mumbled ironically.

"Isn't that the tradition in this family? No one actually makes the announcement anymore. Everyone just takes one look at you and guesses."

Katara started to open her mouth to argue that point but snapped it shut abruptly when she realized that Suki spoke the truth. That had been true of her pregnancy with Kya, _both_ of Suki's pregnancies (although technically Toph had been the one to spill the beans on the second one because she'd sensed an "extra heartbeat") and now Katara's current one. Katara supposed that was the downside of being a member of such a close-knit family and tight circle of friends. Sometimes they knew each other a little _too_ well…

"If it makes you feel better, I haven't discussed my suspicions with Sokka at all and he's clueless," Suki said, easily reading Katara's thoughts as they played across her features, "I can keep it quiet if you want me to."

"No. There's no need. Aang and I were planning to tell you and Sokka before we left today anyway."

"How far along are you?"

"Nearly three months now."

"Sooo," Suki drawled, her tone deceptively casual, "Is there any particular reason that you and Aang wanted to keep your pregnancy a secret?"

"No particular reason. Just wanted to be sure before we started telling people."

"Does that mean I can offer you my official congratulations now?"

"Congratulate away," Katara invited with a smile, opening her arms wide. Suki hugged her tight for the second time that morning but this time she squealed with girlish glee.

"This is wonderful news, Katara!" she exclaimed after they had parted, "I know it might sound silly but have I ever told you how much I love that all of our kids are around the same age?"

Katara giggled. "Dad and Gran are probably going to think we're doing it on purpose…although maybe that's a little true this time because Aang and I _did_ plan this baby."

"You did?" Suki asked, surprised, "Even with all the craziness going on right now? Is that because…well, you know…because you guys are trying to have an airbender?"

"Actually, that's never come up," Katara replied.

And, strangely enough, it hadn't. In fact, it wasn't something that Katara had even considered, not consciously anyway. When she and Aang had decided to try for another baby it had been out of pure want and nothing else. But now that Suki had raised the question, Katara found herself seriously contemplating the answer. No, she hadn't entertained the possibility that the child she carried might someday become an airbender but…_what if_.

Katara couldn't deny that there were definite differences between this pregnancy and her last. In contrast to her experience while carrying Kya, Katara was finding this second time around almost too easy. Her bouts of nausea were minimal and transient. She had boundless energy. And, most incredibly of all, she wasn't plagued with gnawing anxiety that had dominated her first pregnancy. Instead, she felt calm, happy and utterly content. Katara couldn't help but wonder if her newfound tranquility was incidental or if there was some deeper meaning behind it. She mentioned those differences to Suki in the hopes of getting her thoughts on the matter.

"You think that maybe this pregnancy is different because the baby might be an airbender?" Suki wondered.

"I don't know. I don't want to speculate about it because…well, you know the situation there." Indeed, Katara had confided in Suki a great deal in the last five weeks, including the fears, insecurities, pressure and anxiety she had long harbored regarding the future of her husband's extinct race. "I don't want to get my hopes up about it but, at the same time, it's hard not to," she confessed.

"Have you spoken to Aang about your feelings?"

Katara shook her head. "I can't. He doesn't like to discuss it. Every time I try to bring it up, he either changes the subject altogether or he shuts down."

"That can't be easy for you."

"It's not. But then I know it's not easy for him either. If I get my hopes up and it turns out this baby isn't an airbender all I have to live with is disappointment," Katara considered, "Aang has a lot more to lose. For him, I'm sure it would feel like losing his people all over again. I don't blame him for not wanting to put himself through that."

"Sounds like a tough situation for you both."

"I really want to help him, Suki," Katara sighed, "I want to take that pain away from him but I know there's nothing I can do except stand on the sidelines and watch him struggle. I hate it."

"Sometimes the only thing you can do is to pull him back to the surface when he starts to go under. The rest is up to Aang." She reached over to pat Katara's hand when it looked as if she might start to cry. "Don't worry. You guys will figure it out."

"I know we will," Katara replied, her words fortified with conviction despite the tears that brightened her eyes, "And, in the meantime, I guess I'll just enjoy how great I feel and try not to read too much into it."

"Do you really not have _any_ nausea?" Suki asked, envious.

"Barely. It's not anything like it was with Kya. I'm not sick. I'm not tired. The only thing that's remotely the same is that I'm insatiable when it comes to sex." As soon as the words left her, Katara's hand flew to her mouth and she regarded Suki in wide-eyed horror. "I cannot believe I just said that out loud."

Far from being offended or shocked, Suki merely laughed. "Forget about it. After everything that's happened in the last month, you and I don't have many secrets between us anymore, do we?"

"I guess you have a point." Thanks to Suki, she knew more about her brother's sexual prowess than any sister should know or would _want_ to know.

"And since we've made such a habit of oversharing," Suki prefaced in a tentative tone, "There's something I have always wanted to ask you but, I was afraid of being inappropriate."

Katara arched a sardonic brow. "Inappropriate? You? Never."

Suki gave her a playful shove. "I _do_ have some sense of decorum," she argued, "Which is why I've been reluctant to ask you this. It's kind of personal and maybe a little offensive and…I don't know how to phrase it without sounding like a total weirdo…but I've always been curious and…"

"Spit it out, Suki."

"Well, Aang _is_ the Avatar and he's this wise, all-powerful being with knowledge and skill that spans for thousands of years and everything and I just wondered…"

"Wondered what?"

"What's he like…you know…" Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "…in bed?"

"Suki!"

"You're the one who brought it up!" Suki accused hotly, "Besides, I warned you that it was a personal question that could possibly cause offense!"

"But…but _why_…?"

"Because he's _the Avatar_! Katara, don't you get it? You are having _sex_ with the Avatar. I mean…is it normal? Does he…does he glow or…or levitate or anything? Does the bed vibrate? Do _you_ glow?"

"No, you crazy woman! He doesn't glow and neither do I! What's the matter with you? You've been spending too much time with Toph!"

"I won't deny that she's the one who got me thinking about it, especially when you got pregnant so fast after you guys got married."

"So did you!"

"Yeah, but I'm not shagging the Avatar."

Katara growled at her, half in embarrassment, half in dumbfounded laughter. "I can't believe you and Toph sit around and discuss what Aang and I do in private."

"It's not what you're thinking. Besides, you just admitted to me two minutes that you can't enough of it so what else am I supposed to think?"

"That I'm in love with my husband?" Katara replied, as if that conclusion should have been glaringly obvious, "And, for the record, when Aang and I are together like that he's not the Avatar to me. He's just Aang. He's my husband and my best friend."

"And?"

"And it's good. It's really good. I don't have anything to compare to but…I've never been dissatisfied in bed with him. There! Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah. I guess it does."

Her subdued tone incurred a quizzical look from Katara. "You seem disappointed."

"I don't know. I guess I thought it would be different for you, like some epic, deep, spiritual awakening or something. I even envied you a little. But now? I realize you guys pretty much have ordinary, run of the mill married sex. Nothing special at all…"

When Katara thought about how expertly Aang used his mouth and hands on her body and all of the private places his facile, talented tongue had tasted, the way he sometimes could make her actual toes curl, none of that could be categorized as "ordinary, run of the mill sex." Not by a long shot. But Katara could hardly say any of that to Suki so, with a hot blush tinting her cheeks, she replied, "Yeah, you're right…"

To which Suki, upon noting that blush, responded with a rather dubious "hmm."

On the other side of the pond, Aang observed Suki and Katara's interactions with a faint, affectionate smile and wondered vaguely what they might be talking about. He supposed the details didn't matter because whatever they were discussing had resulted in a full throated laugh from Katara and seeing her so happy was enough to bring him profound joy. He could have stood there and listened to that laugh all afternoon and likely would have too had Sokka not intervened.

When Sokka noticed his distraction, he thumped Aang in the shoulder as he walked past. "Hey, Arrowhead! Less mooning, more loading. You guys will never get in the air if you keep lollygagging."

They were supposed to be loading Appa in preparation for the family's long journey back to the Southern Air Temple and, for the most part, they were making good progress…when Aang wasn't preoccupied with watching Katara be Katara. He couldn't help it. He was always drawn to her but lately the pull he felt towards her had been particularly powerful. Aang was used to the ache he felt when they were apart but now he was beginning to feel it even when they were together because he found himself dreading the inevitable moment when he would have to say goodbye to her again. He wondered vaguely if the change was related to her pregnancy and the newness of it all.

"Aang!" Sokka called sharply as he made his way up Appa's tail with an armful of supplies, "Would you get it together already? You'll have plenty of time to make goo-goo eyes at Katara on your way home!"

"Okay, okay, I'm on it," Aang grumbled, finally, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Katara, "When did you become so bossy?"

He quickly joined Sokka atop of Appa's saddle to help secure the family's belongings for the long trip. Aang emitted a low whistle of surprise when he saw just how many items he and his family had accumulated during their month long stay in Kyoshi Island. Most of it had been gifts from the islanders who had been so gracious and intent on making the Avatar and his family feel welcome. Their kindness had made it difficult for Aang to refuse their generosity even while he wondered where in the world he and Katara would store it all.

After he and Sokka had stacked the parcels in the far corner of the saddle in three neat rows, they began the laborious task of getting them tied down securely. "Wow, this really _is_ a lot," Aang remarked, more to himself than to Sokka, "Poor Appa is going to be exhausted by the time we get back to the temple."

"Since when do you guys travel with so much stuff?" Sokka asked as they worked.

"Since we had Kya," Aang replied wryly, "Most of this is _hers_. She's gotten like 500 presents since we've been here."

"See? This is why I'm thankful that Suki and I only have boys. Girls come with way too much frou-frou."

"That's not exactly true. Toph's a girl and there's nothing frou-frou about her at all."

"You do have a point there." Once they finished securing the baggage with heavy rope and double knotting it for added sturdiness both Aang and Sokka decided to take a much deserved rest break.

"Speaking of Toph…" Aang began after they had sat in companionable silence for a few seconds, "Do you think we'll ever convince her to take on the role of police chief? I think she'd be pretty great at it."

"So do I but, one step at a time, Aang," Sokka replied, "We managed to convince her to spearhead the training program for the police force and convert her metalbending school into an academy for new recruits. Baby steps, my friend."

"But she really would be perfect for the job," Aang insisted, "And if she was there to keep the peace maybe _I_ wouldn't have to keep bouncing back and forth between the air temple and Republic City."

"Oh, I see," Sokka laughed, "This is about how Toph becoming police chief benefits _you_, huh?"

Aang dropped his head forward with a self-deprecating sigh. "I sound selfish, don't I?"

"A little bit. But I get it. We're all entitled to be a bit selfish from time to time. I mean, the whole reason Toph doesn't want to take the job in the first place is because she likes her freedom. She doesn't want to answer to anyone, especially _you_."

"It's not like I'd micromanage her or anything. She wouldn't have to deal with me at all. All I really want to do is be at home with Katara and Kya anyway."

"You _don't_ have to keep living apart this way," Sokka reminded him, resurrecting the old argument that they had been having for months now, "You should just relocate to Republic City and be done with it."

Aang's jaw tightened. "You know I can't do that, Sokka."

"Can't or don't want to?" Sokka challenged.

"It's both actually. I feel like I've sacrificed enough as the Avatar. I won't give up my home too."

"Look, I get where you're coming from. I know you have a sentimental attachment to the temple and I understand how important that is given your history."

"It's about _more_ than sentiment for me now. Katara and I have made a home there. We've raised our daughter there and…" he paused to take a breath before he added, "…I want us to raise our new baby there too."

Sokka gaped at him. "New baby? Is Katara…?"

Aang nodded before he could finish the question. "She's almost three months along. We were holding off saying anything until we were sure. You're actually the first person I've told."

"That's…that's great! Congratulations, Aang," Sokka said, still recovering from his shock when he pulled his brother-in-law in for a brief hug, "I'm really happy for you guys."

"Thanks. I'm really happy too."

"Wow. I can't believe you guys are having another baby. We WaterTribe siblings sure are a fertile bunch, aren't we?" Sokka joked, "My dad's gonna develop some kind of nervous tick if we keep giving him grandkids like this."

Aang snorted a short laugh. "I guess we do have our kids in tandem, don't we? But I think Katara and I were probably way overdue to give Kya a sibling."

"Still wrestling with that 'only child' syndrome after all of these years, I see," Sokka remarked dryly, "I keep telling you, Aang. Having a sibling is highly overrated."

That claim was met with outright skepticism from Aang. "You love Katara and you know it."

"I do love her but having a little sister isn't all it's cracked up to be," Sokka said, "It was all about me until she came along." When Aang rolled his eyes in response to that, he added with a superior sniff, "Yeah well, get back to me on how _Princess Kya_ feels about it all once the new baby is here."

"She's going to be thrilled especially since _she's_ the one who asked for a baby in the first place."

"Oh yeah, so did Anik. He was real adamant about having a baby brother. But then he changed his mind about that pretty fast after Tikaani got here. Just the other day, he asked Suki if we could send the baby back to where he came from. So no, he's not impressed." Aang was still laughing over that when Sokka remarked, "I'm actually surprised you and Katara didn't get pregnant sooner than this. I figured with all the added pressure of you being the only living airbender, you guys would be popping out kids left and right."

Aang's smile quickly faltered with that comment. "No," he said firmly, "That…that's never been a thought in my head, Sokka. Not ever."

"Seriously?"

"I'm not going to tell you that it doesn't keep me up at night sometimes," he admitted gruffly, "It does. I know that one day I'm going to die and the avatar cycle will continue and I don't know who will come after me to train the next Avatar in airbending or_ if_ anyone will come after me. And the not knowing is _terrifying_. For all I know, airbending is probably going to die with me."

"Aang…"

"And I can't put that burden on Katara. I _won't_. I have to carry it on my own. Not my wife and not my children."

"So you're just going to keep all of those feelings bottled up inside of you for the rest of your life? That sounds like a horrible existence, Aang!"

"You know me, Sokka. I don't like worrying about things I don't have the power to change," he said lightly, "Besides, I'd rather concentrate on what I have right now and what I have is a beautiful, smart, capable wife, an incredible daughter, an amazing circle of family and friends and a new baby on the way. My life is pretty good."

"Your ability to find the bright side in even the bleakest of circumstances will never cease to amaze me, Aang."

"Thanks. I think."

"I wish I could do that but sometimes it's hard for me to get out of my own head."

Eager to focus on something else besides his own internal demons, especially if he could possibly help Sokka find a solution to whatever was troubling him, Aang asked, "What's on your mind, Sokka?"

"Anik."

"What about him?"

"He's a bender."

Aang blinked at him, nonplussed. "Yes. I know."

"And it's a lot," Sokka sighed, "Having Katara here has been a real blessing because she's helped to channel his energy into something positive but I'm worried about what will happen after you guys are gone. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate what you've done so far and I don't want you to feel obligated to do more but… Suki and I are still in a transition phase with the new baby and a move. We've got a lot on our plate. Dealing with a wild child is more than we can handle right now."

Aang glanced down to where Kya and Anik continued to play. Presently, the two of them were soaking wet and covered from head to toe in mud but, for the most part, they seemed to be having fun even though it was clear from the way Katara and Suki were bearing down on them that they were probably going to get scolded soon. Aang shrugged.

"I don't know, Sokka. He doesn't seem particularly wild to me."

"That's because all those crazy bending shenanigans are normal to you," he argued, "You know how to deal with it when Kya has a tantrum and suddenly there's a tidal wave in your living room. Suki and I? Not so much. Do you know how many times he's flooded the house?"

"Is it really _that_ bad?"

"It reminds me of when Katara and I were little and every time we had a fight or she got mad, _I_ got soaked. It wasn't good times."

"That sounds rough," Aang sympathized.

"And then I keep thinking, what if Tikaani is a bender too? I don't think I could handle _two_ of them, Aang. I might crack up."

"Sokka, you've been around benders all of your life. This isn't new for you."

"But I've never _raised_ one before. And it's hard, Aang," he sighed, "I don't even know what I'm doing half of the time. And it's not just unpredictability that comes with Anik being a bender either. I just keep thinking…what am I going to teach him? What do I have to pass on to him? Is he really going to need to know how to use a boomerang or drive a canoe or catch a fish when he's a _waterbender_? He's my son and I'm useless to him."

"You are _not_ useless to him," Aang refuted shortly, "And I know for a fact that you have plenty to teach Anik because you taught _me_."

"Yeah right, Aang, come on!" Sokka snorted, "Don't patronize me!'

"I'm not. I'm being sincere. Sokka you're the one who taught me how to be leader and how to carry responsibility with dignity and honor. You showed me what it means to be a man and you made me a better Avatar and _none_ of that had anything to do with bending," Aang said, "_Those_ are the lessons that you're going to pass along to your son and they're the same lessons that I've passed to my daughter. You are not, nor have you ever been, useless."

Sokka cleared his throat several times following Aang's emphatic, heartfelt reply, hoping to dislodge the burning emotion that had suddenly taken up residence there. "You know, I really hate it when you say stuff like that," he muttered thickly, "Because it makes me emotional and you know how I _hate_ getting emotional."

"Yeah, I know," Aang laughed, nudging Sokka with his shoulder, "But you needed to hear it so I said it. What are you gonna do?"

"You know what? I was wrong."

"Wrong about what?"

"Having a sibling isn't so overrated after all. Because I'm really glad to have you as my brother, Aang."

"Me too, Sokka," Aang replied, suddenly grappling with his own lump of emotion, "Me too."

**~End~**


	11. The Art of Teaching

**A/N: So, this fic is finally complete. It only took me seven years. Better late than never, I suppose. Anyway, after this part there are only five chapters left. My question to those of you who are reading this is, would you prefer that I keep posting a new chapter every few days as I have been or would you prefer that I post the remaining chapters all at once? I am good either way. Let me know. **

* * *

**The Art of Teaching **

"Katara, do you think I'm boring?"

Katara relaxed her waterbending stance and favored Aang with a quizzical expression. Just prior to his odd query, a throng of the local village children had flocked all around her in a mad dash to claim a sky bison for an afternoon of flying. In fact, Katara had just finished issuing a warning to Kya as she darted past with the group to stick with Anil and not to attempt flying one of the bison on her own when Aang came dragging from the temple shortly after all of the children had poured out. In sharp contrast with their unrestrained exuberance, Aang appeared deflated and thoroughly defeated. Katara took one look at his stooped shoulders and hanging head and easily guessed that his first children's class on air nomad culture had not gone as well as he'd hoped.

Originally, it had been _her_ idea, a sleepy suggestion she had made to Aang one night when he was suffering from insomnia and grappling with the daunting task of finding a way to keep the teachings and traditions of his people alive. Recently, he had become obsessed with wanting to ensure that the legacy of his people lived on after him. While he was confident that Jinpa would do her part, because it was _her_ legacy too, he was the only one who could pass on the principles of airbending, even if technically he had no one to whom he could pass those principles. He wanted to find a way to document the forms and techniques of the art, to make certain that the beauty and history of airbending was preserved even long after he was gone.

Her solution to his dilemma had been relatively simple. _Why couldn't he start a school?_ The instant Katara had asked the question out loud the solution made perfect sense to her and once it took root in her mind she couldn't shake it. In fact, the resolution was so plainly obvious that Katara couldn't understand why she and Aang had never considered the option before. But while she had been adamant about the idea from its inception, Aang, on the other hand, had needed some time to come around.

At first, he had been somewhat dismissive of starting a school, viewing the endeavor as rather pointless given that none of his potential students would ever become airbenders. What was the point in teaching them the principles and forms of a skill they would never develop? But Katara had quickly reminded him that passing on airbending techniques wasn't entirely the point. Teaching others about the doctrines and belief system of his culture and the _values_ that had defined his people, especially those who already had a connection and a healthy respect for the air nomad history, _was_ the point. None of that had to die with him unless he let it die.

"There is an entire village of people below us whose hearts are inclined towards this place, towards _your people_, Aang," she had told him, "Teach them what you know so they can teach others."

Once she had managed to persuade Aang into recognizing that starting a school was an absolute necessity and even his _responsibility_ as the last, living airbender, Katara's next order of business had been to convince Aang that he was actually qualified enough to _teach_ others. That proved to be no small task. Of course, Aang had doubted his abilities from the very beginning. He had always struggled with believing in himself, especially when he was faced with a challenge that he had never encountered before.

In some respects, Katara could sympathize with his hesitation. After all, this was uncharted territory for him. He had spent the good majority of his lifetime serving as a _student_ to others. In fact, his entire existence as the Avatar stipulated that he become a lifelong learner. The idea that he would now become the teacher seemed a little daunting for Aang, not to mention entirely foreign.

Even when Katara had pointed out to him that what he was proposing to do wouldn't be all that dissimilar from what he had done for the air acolytes in Yu Dao, Aang still showed a measure of reluctance. Perhaps because, in Yu Dao, those lessons had been in a fairly relaxed environment and had been conducted rather informally. A formal school, on the other hand, would involve deliberate planning, discipline and structure…three qualities in which Aang typically held little interest. He very much preferred to fly by the seat of his pants instead, which wasn't necessarily the greatest foundation for starting a school.

For that reason, Aang had wisely solicited Katara's help with the details (because everyone knew that there was no better planner alive than his wife). And so began his first tentative steps towards implementing a school that centered entirely around the history of his people and the origins of airbending. While Aang remained uncertain about the plan and even found himself doubting its overall success, he also couldn't deny that he was excited as well. Just being given the opportunity to talk about a nation that he had loved so much, _a life_ that he had loved so much, to an audience who was genuinely interested was thrilling to him.

Still, in spite of his readiness to begin, the project had suffered its fair share of stops and starts. It had been a painfully slow undertaking. It wasn't always easy for Aang to find the time to spearhead the idea while also maintaining his already hectic schedule. Unfortunately, his duty to the world could not be put on hold and, consequently, the plans for the school would occasionally grind to a halt. And when Aang finally _did_ find the time to work on it, he felt overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the task. It was difficult not to be when his list of needs for the school seemed to grow precipitously by the day.

There was a curriculum that needed to be written. Ancient books and scrolls containing centuries' old sacred writings that had to be located and restored. He also needed a dedicated area, a learning center, where he could teach his students without the distraction of flocking animals and random visitors. And, most importantly, he needed to establish an objective for himself.

What was it that he ultimately hoped to accomplish? Was it merely to impart the knowledge of his people or was it his goal to build a community who would specifically carry on the air nomadic tradition after he had passed on from the world? That last part was difficult for Aang to answer. Because, on some level, he firmly believed that his people couldn't and _shouldn't_ be replaced. Yet, at the same time, he also believed that the contributions the air nomads had made to the world were much too valuable to simply be lost in the sands of time. He wanted to preserve those teachings but he also didn't know if it was appropriate that he trust that preservation to a future race of non-airbenders. It was a dilemma that he was finding increasingly difficult to solve.

In the meantime and fortunately for Aang, Katara was only too happy to oversee the less emotionally complicated details regarding preparation for the school when Aang found himself unavoidably occupied with other matters. In fact, she had been the one to put out the invitation to the villagers to join the Avatar's proposed school. There had been many takers too. So many, in fact, that Katara feared that Aang might encounter some difficulty in attempting to teach a class so large. Consequently, she had judiciously advised Aang to split the group into two separate classes, one for the children and one for the adults.

Aang had conducted his first adult class only a few days before and it had been a resounding success. Discussion had lasted well into the night because his students had been so full of questions and so eager to learn. Aang had been just as eager to share his knowledge. He had come to bed that night, exhausted and a bit hoarse from hours and hours of talking but happier than Katara had seen him in years. For days following, he wouldn't stop thanking her for convincing him to do it in the first place.

The experience had only served to heighten his anticipation for the children's class. He had stayed up late into the night preparing the plethora of lessons he wanted to cover for the class. That morning, despite only having a few hours of sleep, he had risen long before Katara had and already had the animals fed, breakfast prepared and Kya arranged in some modest semblance of order by the time she'd rolled out of bed. Like a small child anticipating a present, Aang had barely been able to contain his excitement. Unfortunately, despite his brimming enthusiasm, it was clear to Katara that this second class had not been nearly as successful as his first.

"No," she said finally in answer to his earlier question, watching him mope across the courtyard towards Appa, "I don't think you're boring at all. But somehow, I don't suspect my reassurance makes much difference to you right now."

Aang shook his head. "Nah. Not really."

"Didn't go so well, huh?" Katara observed superfluously.

"No," Aang grunted, "It did not." He flopped down next to Appa with his back against the bison's massive flank and then promptly burrowed himself into Appa's furry girth for comfort. The bison turned his head towards Aang and emitted a low, commiserative bellow, his large, pink tongue lumbering forth to lick his disgruntled companion in a gesture of comfort. "Thanks, buddy. I needed that."

Moved by the dejection stamped all over his face, Katara closed the distance between them eased down beside Aang as well. Her execution was made somewhat awkward by her advanced pregnancy. Aang couldn't quite repress his affectionate smile as he observed her less than graceful efforts but he didn't dare offer her his assistance because he knew she would bite his head off. Katara could be very sensitive about that sort of thing. Despite Katara's propensity towards mothering, she didn't particularly appreciate being mothered in return.

She had another two months before she was due to give birth and he knew that she was ticking off the days. He had lost count of how many times she had lamented the loss of her waistline, her puffy ankles and perpetual heartburn. But, in contrast to all of Katara's complaints about how ungainly and unattractive she felt, it was Aang's fervent opinion that she had never looked more radiant. In his humble estimation, a pregnant Katara was the most beautiful Katara of all. But he didn't dare tell her _that_ either…for fear of the head biting.

Once she was comfortably settled, Katara prodded Aang when he didn't seem inclined to elaborate on his day much further, unaware that his thoughts had already meandered elsewhere. "Well…what happened?"

Clearly unenthused by the unwanted reminder of his terrible morning, Aang regarded her with a woeful glower. "Most of them fell asleep, that's what happened! I wasn't even twenty minutes into my lecture when I lost them."

"Oh, Aang…" Katara didn't know whether to laugh or cluck in sympathy. Her first inclination was to go with the former because the irritated look on his face was so priceless she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling but she prudently stamped down the impulse and went with the latter instead. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, "That must have been very difficult for you."

"Difficult?" he scoffed, "No. It wasn't difficult. Try _humiliating_, Katara! Even _Kya_! Even _my own child _couldn't be bothered to stay awake! And those who _did_ manage to stay awake were barely paying attention anyway, except Anil. I had _his_ complete focus but everyone else…pfft. It was a glorified nap time!"

"Well, Anil is 15 years old, Aang, so there's a different maturity level there. In fact, he is the _oldest_ kid in your class. He should probably be with the other adults now that I think about it."

"Yeah, he probably should be," Aang agreed, "But that still doesn't change the fact that no one besides him got a single thing out of my lesson today. I felt like a complete failure, Katara. It was awful."

"Well…do you think that the lesson was maybe too…_dense_ for them?" Katara wondered.

"Dense? What do you mean?"

"You know…like maybe you were too much on facts and not enough on action," she theorized, "A _lecture_ seems like a lot, Aang. This was a class primarily of eight and nine year olds. Children have notoriously short attention spans. You should know that better than anyone. You have to do something to keep them engaged."

"But I was only teaching them in the same way the older monks taught us," Aang argued, "The way it's been done for _hundreds_ of years. And it worked with my last class! So why didn't it work this time?"

"Your last class was full of grown-ups. This one was full of kids."

"So?"

"So…how did those lessons go over for you when _you_ were eight years old?"

"They were incredibly boring! I hated them!" Katara splayed out her hands in sardonic gesture as if to say, "Well there's your answer!" Surprisingly, however, Aang shook his head, dismissing her reaction outright. "Yes, I found the lectures boring," he admitted, "But I _never_ fell asleep. I always forced myself pay attention because I knew that what I was learning was important. It was a part of my history and it was integral to my mastery of airbending. I didn't take it lightly."

"And you feel like your students today _did_ take it lightly?"

"They definitely weren't engaged. It was almost like they didn't care."

Katara tipped a nod towards the sky where bison soared overhead and the peeling laughter of the children echoed throughout the clouds. "I highly doubt that's the case. After all, every single one of those kids _volunteered_ to be here today. No one made them come. They _want_ to learn from you, Aang."

"They have a funny way of showing it," he muttered.

"Maybe it isn't them," Katara suggested softly, "Maybe _you're_ the problem here…because you're not tailoring your lesson to fit _their_ needs."

He blinked at her in sputtering outrage. "Oh, wow…thanks for being on _my side_ about this whole thing," he mumbled sarcastically, "Way to be supportive there, wife."

"Aang, it's not about taking sides and I _am_ being supportive. I love you. I believe in what you're trying to do wholeheartedly but I can't always tell you what you _want_ to hear," Katara said gently, "Sometimes, I have to tell you what you _need_ to hear too."

"And, apparently, what I need to hear is that I'm a terrible teacher?"

"No. What you need to hear is that teaching is a learning process, not only for the student but for the instructor as well," she replied in a mild tone, "First, you have to figure out _how_ your student learns and then _what_ they need to learn and then the best way to implement that lesson so that it benefits them.

"Take our daughter, for instance," Katara continued, "I have never trained anyone who bends like her. She doesn't push and pull the water when she bends. She _moves_ with the water. She treats it like an extension of her body rather than something she's manipulating to her will. She allows the water to guide her actions rather than guiding the water."

"Because she bends like an airbender," Aang concluded softly, proudly.

"Yes. That is exactly it," Katara agreed, "Your daughter moves and _thinks_ like an airbender. But that can be frustrating to deal with when the principals for _waterbending_ are so different. But rather than trying to force Kya to do it in a way that's more familiar to me, I've studied the way _she_ does it so I can tailor her lessons in the way that she learns best. It's hard work but, it's worth it. _That's_ what you have to do with your students."

Aang didn't dare dispute that Katara knew what she was talking about. After all, she had been successfully training novice waterbenders since she was sixteen years old and had guided several of them towards mastery. She had eleven years of experience on her side. Consequently, Aang knew he couldn't simply dismiss her wisdom out of turn even if their respective disciplines were completely different. Truthfully, he wanted to get her insight on the matter. He knew if anyone could help him to make his school a success, Katara was that person.

"So what can I do?" he asked her with a resigned sigh.

"Well, you mentioned that when you were a kid you also found those classes boring but you paid attention because you knew it was important," Katara reasoned, "Why was that?"

"Because I felt connected to the lessons being taught."

"Exactly! You had a reason to learn. It was _personal_ to you. So that's the first thing you have to do. You need to make it personal for your students so they become invested in their lessons."

"How am I supposed to do that when none of them, besides Anil and Kya, have a personal connection to my people?"

Recognizing that she couldn't help him solve his dilemma until she first determined where he might have possibly gone wrong in his approach, Katara advised, "Why don't you start by walking me through your lesson? What did you talk about today?"

"Meditation," Aang replied, "I thought it was best to begin with that because meditation is at the very foundation of every air nomadic principle."

"How's that?"

"Well, before we can affect change or even understand how to implement it in the world around us," Aang explained, "we must first comprehend our place in the vast universe and how we contribute to a functioning society."

"That sounds pretty deep for a children's lesson."

"It _is_ deep," Aang acknowledged, "But it's also necessary. They will never grasp the teachings of my people if they don't first understand how we are all connected, not only to each other but to everything that surrounds us."

"And so how exactly did you go about _teaching_ them this philosophy?"

"Well," he sighed, "I first started with the basic definition of meditation and then I moved on to its history, how meditation developed over the centuries, the goals of meditation, the mechanics involved, deep breathing and focusing the mind, the goal to achieve the ultimate, spiritual plain of existence through mental clarity…you know? The basic stuff."

"So you recited dry facts about ancient meditation techniques to a bunch of eight year old kids and thought that would go over well?" Katara concluded bluntly.

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds stupid," he griped.

"You said it, not me."

"They weren't dry facts, Katara!" Aang denied hotly, "They were part of a history lesson. They were instructions!"

"Well, did you let them try it out themselves?"

"No. You don't 'try out' meditation."

"Why not?"

"Because…it's a spiritual thing. It…it serves a purpose! What would be the point of _them_ meditating?"

"To achieve that ultimate, spiritual plain you were just waxing on about." When he continued to stare at her blankly, as if she had spoken another language altogether, Katara asked, "Is that something only an airbender can do?"

"No. Anyone who has a deep, spiritual connection and understanding can achieve that state. Guru Pathik did it and he wasn't an airbender."

"So, then what's the problem?"

Aang didn't have an immediate response to that. Perhaps because, in his mind, teaching others about his people and then teaching others how to _live_ like his people were two very different things. And, quite honestly, until that very moment, Aang hadn't yet decided which goal he wanted to accomplish. But he realized that there was little point in implementing a school, in putting so much time and effort into passing on the traditions of his people if it wasn't for the sole purpose of achieving the latter. He could never bring his people back entirely but he could preserve a remnant of what they had been and, for now, that was enough for him.

"There's no problem," he whispered finally, "You're right. I can't just _tell_ them about the principles of meditation. I need to _show_ them. Maybe I can take them on a field trip through the forest for our next class. There's a special tree there that I would like to show them."

"Now you're getting it, Sifu Aang," Katara commended with a smile.

"Thank you. You are a very wise woman, Katara of the Southern WaterTribe," Aang whispered, leaning forward to nuzzle her, "And I am very lucky to be married to you."

"That's high praise coming from one of the wisest people I know. Guess you're rubbing off on me, airbender…" She started to brush his mouth with a tender kiss when she was abruptly startled from the intention by a sharp thump in her lower abdomen. Katara laughed at the sensation. "Apparently, your son agrees with that." When Aang regarded her with a befuddled frown, she swept up his hand and placed his palm to the underside of her belly so he could feel the flurry of kicks.

Aang expelled a short sigh of laughter, his eyes brightening with wonder. "Wow," he breathed, "This will _never_ get old for me."

"That's because you don't have an aspiring acrobat turning somersaults in _your_ belly at all times of the day," Katara replied dryly, "This kid never sleeps."

"I wonder if that's a preview of things to come."

"Don't say things like that," Katara admonished him sharply, "We barely survived those sleepless nights with Kya. I don't think I can go through that again."

Aang leaned forward to kiss her softly as he felt the tension of his morning melt away like new snow under the radiating warmth of the sun. "Well, I can't wait until he or _she_ gets here. Sleepless nights and all."

"Hmm…" Katara sighed against his mouth, "Me either."

**~End~**


	12. Absence Makes the Heart Get Broken

**Absence Makes the Heart Get Broken **

The quiet rustling to his left broke Aang's concentration and abruptly shook him from his meditative pose. Frowning, he opened his eyes to discover his five year old daughter seated next to him, her legs folded in lotus position, her palms turned upright and her eyes closed. At first glance, she appeared to be the very picture of contemplative serenity but Aang wasn't buying her outward facade of spiritual transcendence. He knew Kya better than that. His daughter wanted something from him. And the fact that she had come to _him_ rather than going to her mother almost guaranteed some sort of self-interest on her part.

Fully expecting that he was about to be played like a tsungi horn but not entirely adverse to it, Aang acknowledged Kya with a wary greeting. "Um…hello there. Shouldn't you be in bed right now?"

"Shh, Daddy. I'm meditating." Had her eyes been open right then, Kya would have caught her father's melodramatic eye roll.

"Oh, is that so?" he drawled in a tone that sounded anything but convinced.

"Yes," Kya insisted, pinching her eyes together even tighter, "I'm concentrating very hard."

"Yes. I can see that."

"So, shh," she admonished him again, "You have to be quiet now so I can focus."

Aang had to suppress his sputtering bark of laughter. Truthfully, that should have been _his_ line to _her_. That Kya, a nonstop talker herself, would dare to tell anyone that _they_ had to be quiet was rich in and of itself but in this particular instance it was beyond ironic. After all, _he_ had been the one who had originally sought out this particular quiet place for deep meditation while his wife nursed their four month old son and his daughter was _supposedly_ napping. If anyone was intruding on another's tranquil space it was Kya herself but Aang didn't see the point of arguing with her about it. He had learned long ago that attempting to refute five year old logic, especially _his_ five year old, was an endeavor weighted in futility.

With that in mind, Aang said gamely, "Okay, I guess I'll follow your lead then."

However, he was hardly surprised when, seconds after he closed his eyes and began to slow his breathing, Kya suddenly announced, "Daddy, I've been thinking lately."

At that point, Aang gave up trying to meditate altogether. Whatever had compelled Kya to rise from her bed and follow him out there definitely had nothing to do with achieving inner peace. And until he addressed whatever was bothering her, it was unlikely that he would get an opportunity to reach his own. She likely wouldn't stop talking until she finally got the matter off of her chest. Recognizing that he had no choice except to put his own plans on hold for time being, Aang swiveled himself around and then gently positioned Kya so that they were sitting face to face.

"Okay, little bug, tell me what's on your mind," he invited patiently, "I'm listening."

However, once Kya had her father's undivided attention, she became strangely reluctant to begin, as if she feared his reaction to what she planned to say. Instead of jumping into the matter with her usual unrestrained candor, she picked at the microscopic lint on her tunic. It also didn't escape Aang's attention that she had incredible difficulty meeting his eyes. Sensing her distress, Aang wisely didn't rush her along but instead waited for her to build up the courage to speak.

"Daddy, I was wondering…well…" she finally began after a few moments of silence, "I was wondering what you thought about the new baby."

Aang regarded her with a perplexed frown. "You mean _your brother_?"

She nodded and lifted her head to regard him with wide blue eyes filled with uncertainty. "Do you like him?"

He had to swallow back a stunned laugh at the question. "Yes. Very much. Do _you_ like him?"

Kya lifted her small shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. "He's okay, I guess. He's not what I wanted though." She pinned Aang with a meaningful look that was mildly accusatory. "I _asked_ for a baby sister, you know."

"Sorry, I don't get to decide that part, sweetie. Is that what you've been thinking about lately…that you wish Bumi wasn't a boy?"

"No," she admitted in a small voice, "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

She fidgeted for a few seconds more before finally blurting, "Daddy, is Bumi going to be an airbender?"

The question took Aang by surprise, not because he hadn't considered it before but because, while the subject had actually been on his mind quite a lot lately, he hadn't spoken a word to anyone about it. In the beginning of Katara's pregnancy, that possibility had been something that he had deliberately put out of his mind. He had never allowed himself dwell on it at all because he feared building himself up for an expectation that would likely remained unfulfilled. In addition to that, he hadn't wanted to deal with the excess emotional baggage the speculation would cause him. He didn't want to contend with the constant _what ifs_. All Aang had really wanted was to enjoy Katara's pregnancy and count down the days until he held his child in his arms. Nothing else besides that really mattered anyway.

And Aang had remained firm on the matter too, right up until the moment he actually held Bumi in his arms. After that, everything changed. Holding his son for the first time had been profound and meaningful in a way Aang had never anticipated. He knew he would be inundated with sentiment. He expected the warm rush of pure love that pervaded his entire being. After all, this was his child, the physical embodiment of the love he and his wife shared, his firstborn son. Strong emotions were fully expected. What Aang hadn't prepared for was the rush of familiarity and the deep spiritual connection he would feel for the child when Bumi opened his eyes and looked at him for the first time.

Aang had known in that instant that he was staring into the eyes of a kindred spirit. That connection went far beyond the paternal bonds of love. He felt it in the deepest part of his soul, the most profound part of his being. Aang felt drawn to Bumi in a way that he couldn't explain, tied to him in a way that felt visceral and instantaneous and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life. He could only think of one reason for that feeling, one reason why his connection to Bumi would be such a palpable thing.

_His son was an airbender._ He _had_ to be.

The moment that theory entered Aang's mind, it became a permanent resident in his brain and he was unable to shake it. At first, he tried valiantly not to think about it, tried not to hope but the suspicion was always there bubbling beneath the surface. He didn't dare mention it to Katara. He didn't dare breathe aloud the belief to anyone. Truthfully, he had nothing more than gut instinct to back his theory and that was hardly the foundation for making a case to anyone. Still, the hope thumped in his heart every time he held his son close and with each passing day he became more and more convinced that he was right. And so he we watched Bumi with keen expectation, waiting, observing, ready to celebrate any small sign of the baby's airbending abilities.

Based on past experiences, however, Aang knew that it was unlikely that Bumi would begin to manifest any traits until he was closer to a year old but that didn't stop him from being on alert to any and all signs. The anticipation and hope grew in his heart more and more, filling him with renewed hope for the future. Now, there would be another to carry on the airbending tradition after he had passed on from this life. Now, there would be someone to train the next Avatar in airbending. Now, Aang could finally remove that debilitating weight of uncertainty from his shoulders. Still, he remained tentative about mentioning his theory aloud because he was irrationally fearful that doing so might somehow upset the delicate balance of cosmic events that were in play.

Consequently, because _he_ didn't talk about it and he certainly didn't give the outward appearance of _thinking_ about it, Aang assumed that no one else in his family had considered the possibility either. Clearly, he had been wrong. It had evidently been on Kya's mind too.

Careful to keep his tone as neutral as he could, Aang answered his daughter's question with a deliberately casual air. "I don't know, little bug. Do _you_ think he's an airbender?"

She lifted her small shoulders in another shrug. "I don't know. But what if he is? Would that make you like him more than me?"

Aang blinked at her in speechless disbelief, stunned that Kya had even thought to ask such a thing. The entire notion was so ridiculous that he almost wanted to chuckle at her childish reasoning. But his surprise and amusement lasted only an instant and were quickly replaced by shame and guilt at the thought that he might have somehow inadvertently given her that impression. Could he somehow, in his certainty about Bumi, have given Kya, albeit unintentionally, the impression that he preferred her younger brother to her? Groaning inwardly at the thought, Aang reached over and pulled Kya firmly into his lap, hugging her hard.

"Oh sweetie, is that what you're worried about?" Kya nodded, her small face buried in the folds of his robe. Aang tenderly coaxed her into looking at him. "Why do you feel that way? Is it something I did?"

"You're always with Bumi and I don't hardly get to see you no more because you always have to go away."

"Well, Bumi is just a baby, Kya. He needs a lot of care and your mom can't do it on her own so when I'm home I try to help her."

"But what about me?"

"Sweetie, we still spend time together."

"Not lots and lots like before."

"But some," Aang insisted with a small smile.

"It was more before _he_ came," Kya grumbled with a scowl, her words filled with condemnation, "He even sleeps in _my_ spot now! I don't like that!"

"Kya, you have your own room," Aang reminded her mildly, "_and_ a big girl bed."

"My big girl bed is too big!" she contended mercurially, "I want to move back in with you and Mama."

"Kya, we agreed that you were going to start sleeping in your own room after the baby came. Remember?"

"But I don't want to anymore. And Mama lets me sleep with her when you're not here but then when you come back home you kick me out."

Aang tipped a confused look down at her. "Mama still lets you sleep in bed with her?"

"Yep," she confirmed with a nod, "But I have to leave when you come home."

It wasn't a huge deal in the grand scheme of things but Aang was vaguely bothered by the revelation. Perhaps because he and Katara had discussed Kya sleeping on her own at length before Bumi was born and they had both agreed that Kya should be out of their bed prior to the birth. Aang had thought they were on the same page about it. So to learn that their agreement easily fell to the wayside whenever he left home filled Aang with mild aggravation, especially because the incongruity was obviously sending mixed signals to Kya. He also felt inundated with another, less specific emotion that he couldn't quite define. But it felt a lot like doubt.

"And you think you have to leave because I don't want you there?" Aang concluded miserably, "Because of Bumi?"

"Yep," she sniffled.

"Kya, I promise you that's not the reas-,"

"-No! You have to listen to me! You were my mama and daddy first!" she argued petulantly, dissolving into the tears then, "He's taking _everything_! It's not fair, Daddy!"

Aang rocked her gently as she wept against his chest, murmuring sweet words of comfort and reassurance until her sobs died down into pitiable hiccups. Only when she was significantly calmer did Aang attempt to reason with her once more. "You're right, sweetie. We were your mama and daddy first," he acknowledged softly, "And I know it's hard to deal with so much change, so fast. But just because Bumi needs us more right now, that doesn't mean we love you less. Because I don't. I love you very much."

"But if Bumi's an airbender then he'll be special to you and you _will_ love me less," Kya predicted, her lower lip trembling.

"That's not true. There's no one on earth I love more than you and your mama."

"And Bumi," Kya added somewhat testily.

"Yes, and Bumi," Aang laughed, "I love him too. But that's because he's my family just like _you're_ my family and Mama's my family. And yes, you're right. If Bumi turns out to be an airbender, that will be special to me because then I won't be the only airbender anymore. But Kya, you're special to me too."

"Yeah? What makes me so special?" she mumbled.

He bit back a smile over her petulant tone. "Well…you're special because you're my daughter," he told her fervently, "You're beautiful and funny and challenging and the smartest little girl in the whole, entire universe. You're my first baby. You taught me everything I know about being a father. You made me a better person. You are the best part of me, little bug, and _nothing and no one_ will ever change that."

"Do you promise?"

He pressed a firm kiss to the top of her head. "I promise."

She rose up onto her knees to wrap her small arms around his neck for a heartfelt hug. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too."

At last reassured that she wasn't losing her place in her father's heart, Kya relaxed enough to ask, "Can we go for a ride on Appa now?"

Aang dropped a brief kiss to the tip of her nose. "Sure. We can do whatever you want."

Whatever Kya wanted turned out to be quite a number of things and taking a ride on Appa was simply at the top of the list. She also wanted to feed her koi fish, sparrowkeet and turtleducks, groom the new calves that had been born to Appa and Jalus, play keep away with Momo's moon peaches (the lemur was _not_ amused), challenge Aang to an impromptu ice skating race and finally attempt to coax Ceba, the oldest of Appa's calves, into eating an apple from directly her hand. By the time all of that was done, several hours had passed and it was time for dinner. Knowing that Katara would very likely be tired from a day of contending with their infant son, Aang took it upon himself to prepare the meal with his daughter serving as his cooking assistant.

"I think we should make fruit pie for dinner," Kya suggested as she watched her father chop the vegetables she'd just handed to him. She wrinkled her small nose in distaste. "I'd rather have that than vegetable soup."

"So would I," Aang agreed, "But I don't think your mother would go for it. You know how she feels about dessert for dinner."

"Well, _we_ could have fruit pie and _Mama_ could have vegetable soup," Kya proposed, "I think that's a good idea. That way everyone is happy." Her round eyed expression and wide, guileless smile was in direct contradiction with her wily tone. Fortunately for her, it didn't take much more than that to convince her father.

"That _is_ a good idea," Aang considered, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "But this conversation _never_ happened. Agreed?" He thrust out his hand to his co-conspirator.

Kya shook it firmly. "Agreed, Daddy."

After a rather unhealthy dinner of fruit pie _and_ tarts, Aang gave Kya her bath and then put her down for bed. Unlike most nights when it took a fair amount of cajolery and a few bedtime stories to get her to fall asleep, Kya was already half dozing by the time he had finished putting on her pajamas. Once he had her tucked firmly into bed, Aang went back down to the area that served as their kitchen to clean up the remnants from his and Kya's dinner and prepare a dinner tray for his wife. When he entered his bedroom twenty minutes later, Katara was only just beginning to rouse from her nap.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead," he sang out softly as he scooted inside.

"Hey," she yawned in greeting as she drowsily scrubbed sleep from her eyes. "What are you doing, Aang?" she grunted when she noticed the tray in his hands.

"I'm bringing you dinner."

It took a few seconds more for Katara to orient herself and, once she had, she gradually came to realize that the sun had long since gone down. "How late is it?"

"Not too late," he said, "You must have been really tired. Kya and I have been outside playing for hours."

"She's still awake?"

"Nope. She's been fed, bathed and bedded already."

"And you did all that on your own?" Katara asked with a measure of disbelief.

"Yes, I did _all_ of that," Aang preened proudly, "I can also tie my own shoes and everything."

Largely ignoring his laughing sarcasm and sufficiently reassured that her household hadn't fallen into chaos while she slept, Katara finally relaxed. When she was situated, Aang carefully placed the tray on her lap. "So what's all this?" she asked, surveying the variety of morsels that had been set out before her. Soup, bread and beverage and with a decorative flower added for ambiance.

"I told you already. It's dinner."

She shook her head, as if she were clearing the last of the mental cobwebs from her brain. "Wait a minute. _You_ _made_ dinner too?"

Aang tried not to be offended by how dubious she sounded. "I _do_ know how to cook, Katara."

"Yes," she agreed, "Just not very well."

"Haha…you're so hilarious," he grumbled humorlessly, "I try to do something considerate and this is the thanks I get. I'll have you know that I burned myself _twice_ tonight while making this soup. I was literally wounded on _your_ behalf, Katara. Would it kill you to show a little appreciation?"

"Oh, stop with your pouting, airbender," Katara laughed, "Do you want me to kiss your booboos and make them better?"

"That would be nice." He pointed to the nonexistent injury on his palm. "You can start right here."

When playfully kissing his hand inevitably led to kissing of a more serious nature, Katara whispered against his lips, "Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome," he whispered back before rolling away from her, "Now eat up. We'll have time for _other things_ later."

While Katara preoccupied herself with dinner, Aang turned his attention to their sleeping son who was curled up sweetly in his bassinette. He smiled at him, marveling at his son's plump cheeks and dark, unruly curls and the uncanny resemblance he bore to his Uncle Sokka. In fact, were it not for the near nine months in age difference, Bumi and Sokka's youngest son Tikaani could have passed for twins. The resemblance was so striking that he and Katara had often joked about whether or not they'd had anything to do with Bumi's conception at all. Of course, Sokka loved it and, secretly, so did Aang.

He couldn't be happier to see his wife's genetics represented so strongly in their children. Their resemblance to their mother only intensified his already intense affection for them. He felt it now especially as he looked down at Bumi. The urge to hold him was overwhelming. However, the instant Aang started to reach for the baby with the full intention of gently scooping him into his arms, Katara fairly shouted at him, "No, Aang! Don't do it!"

Aang leapt back with a startled yelp. "What? What did I do?"

"Do you have any idea how long it took me to put him down this afternoon?" she asked him direly, "Don't touch him. Don't even _breathe_ on him, Aang."

"Why? Was he fussy?" Aang asked with some surprise. That was unusual for Bumi he was a relatively laidback baby that rarely kicked up a ruckus about anything.

"Not fussy necessarily but I did have a hard time getting him settled down for a nap. Every time I thought he was about to drift off, his head would suddenly pop up and then we'd have to start all over again," Katara explained, "And I couldn't put him down either because, as soon as I did, he would start to cry."

"Why didn't you come get me?"

"You were meditating. I didn't want to disturb you. Besides, I had it under control."

"I don't doubt that you did." Aang sat down next to her. "But, as far as disturbing me, you should be more like our daughter then," he laughed, "She certainly had no problem doing it."

Katara groaned aloud. "Really? I've asked her time and again not to bother you when you're meditating. She knows better. I'll talk to her."

"No, Katara, don't do that. She didn't bother me. It's fine. She was upset and she needed to talk."

"Upset?" she echoed, her irritation immediately replaced with concern, "Why was she upset? About what?"

"About the baby. She feels like he's usurping her place with us, with _me_ in particular. She actually thought that I preferred Bumi over her."

"I can't say that I'm completely surprised to hear that," Katara replied.

Aang whipped a startled glance towards her, somewhat shocked that she didn't feel as blindsided by the realization as he had. And the fact that she wasn't left him feeling guilty and defensive. "You're not? What are you saying? You think I've shown Bumi preferential treatment or something?"

"Maybe not consciously," Katara said, "But Aang, you _are_ gone a good amount of the time and when you're here you're mostly preoccupied with the baby. It's understandable that Kya would feel left out sometimes, especially because, when you came home before, it would always be the three of us together."

"So…is that why you've been letting her sleep in here with you while I'm gone?" Aang asked, careful to keep the accusation out of his tone.

Katara's gaze skittered away despite the lack of accusation. "I know we agreed not to but…it's easier for her, Aang," she mumbled, "Kya misses you so much when you're gone and she adjusts better her when she can sleep in here with me and Bumi." _So do I_, she added silently.

"I get that, Katara, but it's giving her the wrong impression when I come back," he argued, "She associates me being home with you kicking her out of our bedroom that's not a good connotation. All it does is reinforce this notion she has that I prefer Bumi to her."

"Well, have you considered that maybe that has more to do with _your_ actions than mine?" Katara retorted crisply, "Like I said before, you have been rather preoccupied with the baby lately which hasn't really left a lot of time for Kya."

Feeling that old familiar guilt begin to creep into his belly once more, Aang immediately became defensive once again. "The only reason I get so tied up with the baby is because I'm trying to help _you_," he pointed out, "I'm _not_ showing favoritism." He wasn't sure right then if he was trying to convince her…or himself.

Thankfully, Katara was able to put his mind at ease on that score even though she wasn't aware of his silent agonizing in the first place. "I'm not saying that you're showing favoritism," she replied, "It has nothing to do with that. While it's very sweet that you want to help out, Aang I can handle Bumi without you just fine. I've managed these last four months on my own without a problem."

It was the second time in a ten minute span that Katara had mentioned not needing his assistance and for some inexplicable reason Aang found her words mildly grating rather than reassuring. "So what are you saying?" he asked, his tone starchy, "You'd rather I ignore you and Bumi and give more time to Kya?"

"No. I'm saying that it explains why she's been such a pain in the neck lately."

"You think Kya is being difficult?" he uttered with mounting incredulity, "I haven't noticed that at all, Katara."

It was true that Kya had been more clingy towards him than usual since his most recent return but Aang didn't fault her for that. He _had_ been gone nearly two weeks this time. He was sure it was difficult for her to have her father away from home so frequently and especially at a time when she was transitioning through one of the biggest life changes she had ever experienced. But, despite whatever insecurity his daughter may have been feeling, he had found her to be nothing less than her typical, sweet-tempered self and he told Katara so.

"Oh, that's because she's the Princess of Sweetness and Light whenever you're home," Katara remarked sardonically, "But when you're gone then it's a whole different story. She's a complete brat most days."

"That doesn't sound like Kya at all."

"Well, you're only here for the good parts," Katara replied in a brisk tone, "You miss all the tears and tantrums and fits of rebellion that follow each time you leave."

It was impossible to ignore the thread of bitterness in her tone though she had done her utmost to keep her reply neutral. Aang regarded her solemnly. "You know I would be home more if I could," he told her.

"I know that. All I'm saying is that what you see when you come home is only snippets of a much larger picture."

"So why don't you paint the entire picture for me?" Aang invited, "What am I not seeing here?"

"Your daughter misses you," she said, "And when I'm busy with Bumi, she misses me too. I try to lessen that as much as I can by including her when I'm caring for the baby or taking care of the chores and by letting her stay in here with me but I know she's having a difficult time. She's gone from being an only child who was once the center of her parents' universe to being sidelined for 'more important things.' That's a tough transition."

"Are we still talking about Kya right now or are we talking about _you_, Katara?" Aang wondered softly.

"Of course we're talking about our daughter," she replied with a dismissive air but the expression on her face told a different story entirely and she knew it. So did Aang.

For that reason he murmured in careful consideration, "But maybe we should be talking about _you_ since you're obviously harboring a lot of resentment towards me right now."

"Wh-What?" Katara sputtered, "What are you talking about, Aang? Where did _that_ come from?"

"From you!" he cried, "You act like I go away because I _want_ to and not because I _have_ to!"

"You know what else you _have_ to do, Aang? You _have_ to be a husband! You _have_ to be a father! But _that's_ okay to put on the backburner sometimes!" The instant the words left her mouth Katara wanted to call them back but, by that time, the damage had already been done.

Aang regarded her with a stricken expression. "Is that what you _really_ think? That I put you on the backburner?" he asked after a few seconds of tense silence, "Do you think it's _easy_ for me to leave you, to leave our children?"

"Maybe not easy," Katara acknowledged, "I know it's not easy. But, the bottom line is that you still leave and when you're gone life doesn't become frozen, Aang. It moves on and we have to find a way to move on too, whether you're here or not."

"What do you want me to do, Katara?"

Ultimately, it was the tears of futility glistening in his eyes and the mournful edge in his voice that softened her, that made her regret having said anything at all. Theoretically, she knew that none of this was _his_ fault. He hadn't asked to be the Avatar. In truth, most days he didn't even _want_ to be. She knew very well that if the choice had been his, Aang would choose her and their children every time. But the choice wasn't his. Or _hers_. And try though she did, Katara couldn't always keep herself from becoming bitter about that. But it was wrong to blame Aang for circumstances that were beyond his control and she knew that.

"Nothing," she whispered remorsefully, setting aside her dinner tray so that she could scoot closer to him, "I don't want you to do anything, Aang." She placed her hand on his shoulder and tried not to be hurt when he stiffened at her touch. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Please. Can we let this go? I don't want to fight with you."

"Are we fighting?"

"We're being disagreeable with each other," Katara prevaricated, "And this is not how I want to spend the limited time we have together."

"Aren't you the one who always says that ignoring a problem won't make it go away?"

"Aang, we could talk about this for a thousand years and it wouldn't change anything," Katara sighed, "You'd still be the Avatar and I'd still be raising our children mostly on my own." He groaned her name in chagrin. "Sometimes I get frustrated," she said, "That's all. I get frustrated and I take that out on you. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," Aang whispered, turning towards her so that his forehead rested against hers, "I wish I could do something to make this better for you."

"It can't go on like this forever, right?" she considered with a teary giggle.

"We've been saying that for years now and not much has changed," Aang considered glumly, "I don't know if I believe it anymore."

"I don't know if I believe it anymore either," Katara confessed.

Aang framed her face in his hands then and pressed a fervent kiss to her mouth. "I need you to know something, that no matter where I am, no matter how long I'm away, my heart is always here with you, Katara. _Always_."

"I know. I just…I miss you so much."

"I miss you too."

He started to kiss her again, his intention to show her with his mouth and hands and body just how sincerely he meant those words but his son chose that exact moment to emit a weak cry of hunger. Katara laughed softly when Aang released a frustrated groan. "Your son has impeccable timing, doesn't he?" She kissed him lightly before reluctantly scooting from beneath him.

Aang rolled onto his back with a doleful grimace. "I see he doesn't just _look_ like Sokka but he also has his uncle's fondness for ruining my good time," he observed dryly, "Must be a family trait."

"I should probably take care of him before he really gets worked up," Katara said, moving to roll from the bed as Bumi's cries gradually began to strengthen. Aang lightly snagged hold of her wrist before she could fully execute her intention. "What is it, Aang?"

"Are we okay, Katara?"

Her gaze became shuttered when she answered, "I hope so. I want us to be."

Any reassurance Aang might have felt at her response was dispelled when he realized that Katara hadn't answered his question with a clear and decisive "yes" at all.

**~End~**


	13. Wishes vs Reality

**Wishes vs. Reality **

"Come on, Bumi! You can do this! Just try it."

Aang tossed a porcelain teacup, a wedding gift from Zuko that was decorated with delicate, hand painted blue and pink orchids, mid-air and then blew forth a spiraling current to keep it suspended there. It danced and swirled above his and Bumi's heads, pivoting delicately as if poised on an invisible spindle. Bumi watched the show with a wonder filled eyes and emitted a tinkling laugh as he watched the teacup. "Dada do," he breathed in childish glee, thoroughly amazed by his father's incredible trick. Far too soon for his liking, however, Aang let the cup fall into his outstretched palms and then passed it to Bumi. His expression was resolute when he did so and full of expectation.

"Okay. Now you try it," Aang told his one year old son. Bumi glanced from his father's face, to the cup and then back to his father's face, clearly uncertain as to what he should do next. "Go on," Aang encouraged him gently, "Take it."

Grinning a wide, mostly gummy smile, Bumi eagerly took the teacup in his chubby hands and then promptly placed it on top of his head. He immediately peeled with laughter, immensely pleased with himself. Under normal circumstances, his father would have laughed too. In fact, he might have tickled Bumi senseless for such antics or maybe they would have made a game of wearing silly teacup hats but this particular time Aang was too focused on his goal and far too determined about seeing results. After all, an entire year had passed by and Bumi's first birthday was now upon them without his son having shown any propensity whatsoever towards airbending.

For Aang, that felt both worrisome and unacceptable. It surely wasn't the time for games. He snatched the cup from the baby's head with a huff of irritation.

"No,' he scolded the baby sternly, "It's not a hat, Bumi. I need you to do what Daddy does. Do it like _this_."

Once more, he repeated his earlier demonstration and sent the cup airborne, leaving it to twirl briefly above their heads. This time, however, Bumi didn't laugh because, even at a year old, he could sense that his father was not playing a game with him. And when Aang passed the cup to him a second time, rather than place it back on his head, the baby passed it right back to his father. Aang briefly closed his eyes and counted to ten in a bid for patience.

"No," he insisted, pushing the cup back into Bumi's chubby hands resolutely, "It's your turn now. You need to do this, Bumi. It's important. Throw it in the air and keep it there."

Uncertain but also not wanting to disappoint his father, who seemed strangely aggravated with him, Bumi did as he was instructed and tossed the teacup headward with all the might his small arms could muster. At that very instant when the porcelain went airborne, his mother entered the common room and asked cheerfully, "Hey, what's going on in here?"

In that half a second of distraction circumstances deteriorated quickly following her entrance. Katara had barely finished voicing the question before gravity invariably reasserted itself and the cup that Bumi had thrown in the air promptly came crashing back down…directly on top of his head. After that, a flurry of activity unfolded all at once.

Bumi howled in pain. Katara lunged forward to comfort her injured child. The teacup, cracked but not broken, rolled to the far corner of the room unnoticed. And Aang, in a kneejerk response to the shame that suddenly poured through him, bit out a series of exasperated objections because Katara had "startled them and broken Bumi's concentration." Katara didn't immediately respond to his unwarranted accusations because she was too preoccupied with soothing a stunned and crying Bumi enough so that he would allow her to sift through his thick, unruly hair to inspect his wound.

"Is he bleeding?" Aang asked, his tone tight with a mixture of guilt, aggravation and remorse. He felt sick at the thought that Bumi might have been hurt due to his actions, so sick that he could barely look at either one of them.

"It doesn't look like he broke the skin at all," Katara determined, pressing a tender kiss to the injured spot, "Thank goodness. He'll probably have a little bump though." She grinned down at the baby, making the cutesy faces she knew he loved best. "But that's okay. It will go with all your other bumps, won't it, Bumi?" In the face of his mother's teasing, Bumi grinned right back at her, his injury swiftly forgotten. Once Katara was satisfied that the baby would be okay and his good humor was restored, she turned her attention to Aang.

"What were you doing with him just now? How did he get hit with the cup?"

The question was a simple one but the answer would prove to be far more complicated and Aang couldn't formulate the words. Mounting guilt, regret and crushing disappointment had Aang immediately jumping on the defensive. "I was trying to show him how to keep it in the air when you barged in," he replied somewhat testily, "You distracted me and that's why I didn't catch the cup in time!"

"Keep it in the air?" Katara parroted blankly, "How on earth was he supposed to do that, Aang? He's not an air…" She trailed off mid-sentence as the realization slowly dawned upon her. "Did you think Bumi might be an airbender?" Aang didn't answer but the guilt and anguish that flashed in the gray depths of his eyes was telling as was the way he quickly averted them from her and tightened his jaw. "Wait a minute," she uttered in stunned incredulity, "Since when did you think that Bumi was an airbender?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied, smoothly rolling to his feet, "Clearly, I was wrong about it."

Aang was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to get out of there. Shame and self-loathing were coursing so thickly through his blood that he actually felt physical ill. Without giving Katara an opportunity to question him further or even wrap her mind around the fact he had ever suspected Bumi as an airbender in the first place, Aang chose to simply mutter a meager excuse about needing some fresh air and walked out of the room. He kept walking too, ignoring all of the plaintive protests from Katara that followed.

Katara was left sputtering and dazed in the aftermath. At first, she couldn't register anything beyond profound shock. Bumi could have been an airbender but now he wasn't. She couldn't make sense of it, especially because in her estimation, the revelations had all happened within minutes of each other. For Aang, however, this was clearly something he had been contemplating for a long time.

In the past week, he had grown increasingly moody and short-tempered which was not at all like him and she, in turn, had been becoming increasingly concerned by his odd behavior. Though he had said nothing to indicate it, Katara had known that something was troubling him. But she couldn't pinpoint what could have happened to make him so withdrawn and defensive.

She had witnessed such cold indifference from Aang only three times before in the entire time she had known him: after Appa had been stolen from them, shortly after he regained consciousness following Azula's lightning strike and the day she told him that she wanted to train Kya in the South Pole. Katara well knew that Aang had the capacity to close himself off emotionally if the circumstances were awful enough but it didn't happen often. Based on those past experiences, Katara knew a situation had to be fairly severe for Aang to reach his breaking point and it was evident to her that he _had_, indeed, reached it.

Unfortunately, the timing wasn't the best. In just a few short hours the temple would be overrun with friends and family arriving to celebrate Bumi's first birthday. There would be guests arriving from all corners of the earth and they would be staying for several days afterward for the festivities to follow. That would hardly afford Katara with the time or the _privacy_ she would need to sort out whatever was going on with Aang. But she knew if she wanted them to get any enjoyment out of what was supposed to be a special day, she would have to try.

It took some finagling on Katara's part but she managed to convince Kya to entertain her brother for an hour while she sought out Aang. He wasn't difficult to find. Predictably, he had taken refuge in the stables with Appa under the guise of grooming his longtime companion. The sky bison regularly served as Aang's safe haven whenever he was grappling with a particularly difficult problem or when he was hurting. That had been true when Aang was a boy and it remained true now that he was a man of twenty-six.

When Katara cleared the stable threshold she knew that Aang was well aware of her presence though he didn't readily acknowledge her. She easily noted the near imperceptible faltering in his hands as he continued to brush Appa's thick, white fur, the subtle trembling of his lean frame as she made her silent approach. But he didn't give any further indication that he was aware of her presence at all until she asked softly, "So when exactly did you begin to suspect that Bumi might be an airbender?"

He didn't look at her when he answered but continued to brush Appa with meticulous efficiency. "Does it matter?"

She refused to be cowed by the indifference in his tone or his dismissive attitude. "It matters that you didn't discuss it with me. Why is that, Aang?"

"Because I didn't want it to become a thing."

Katara scowled over his phrasing. "What are you talking about? You evidently thought our son was an airbender. Of course it was going to be 'a thing!'"

"Well, now you know why I didn't talk to you about it." He briefly threw up his hands in a gesture of exasperation. "Because I wanted to avoid all of this!"

"All of what?"

"The drama! I didn't want the drama, Katara!"

"The only one being dramatic right now is _you_," she pointed out softly. That was enough to finally still his movements altogether but he continued to refuse to turn around and look at her. "I don't want to have this conversation with your back, Aang," she cajoled, "Will you please turn around and look at me?"

"Why?" That single word response was garbled with emotion and was all the confirmation Katara needed to know that he was in agony right then.

"Because I want to know what you're feeling. I need you to talk to me about what happened back there with Bumi."

"I can't do that," he uttered thickly, "I can't. Please don't ask me…"

She inched closer to him, the compulsion to slip her arms around his waist and pull him close growing stronger and stronger with each passing second. But she was tentative about doing so, uncertain as to how Aang would react if she tried to hold him. Unable to comfort him physically right then, Katara tried to ease him with her words instead.

"Well, can you, at least, tell me what you're thinking right now?" she entreated, "I'm worried about you, sweetie."

Aang dropped his head forward with a convulsive sigh. "I just want to groom Appa. That's all. I want to take care of something that I can control."

Her heart aching with pity for him, Katara lost the battle within herself to keep from touching him. His reaction to her loving gesture was electric and visceral. The instant her fingers skimmed the exposed skin of his back he flinched away from her touch as if she had burned him. Katara quickly dropped her hand and stumbled back a step when she witnessed his reactionary grimace. She whispered his name, her voice with choked with hurt and confusion.

"Aang, please. Let me help you."

He shook his head a little wildly at the offer. "You need to get out of here, Katara. I'm…I'm not in a good place right now and I don't want to hurt you! Can you just leave me alone?" he begged her in a broken voice, "Please…"

"You know I can't do that. I can't leave you like this. Tell me how I can help you."

It was difficult for Katara to accept the notion that she _couldn't_ help him. After all, she had always been the one to talk him down from the proverbial ledge in the past. Aang had always told her that _she_ was his anchor and that _she_ kept him grounded. Without her, he would quickly spiral out of control. She was the person who kept him sane. But right then, Katara feared that not even her steadfast compassion could keep him from sinking into the internal darkness that was threatening to consume him. His next words to her confirmed those fears.

"You can't help me. No one can. And I don't want to talk about it anymore."

She started to press him regardless, mostly because she was concerned about his current mental state and the possibility of him doing something foolish, when she heard, "Hey! Is anybody home? What kind of welcome is this anyway? Where's the meat?" With a mental eye roll, Katara muttered an expletive under her breath, cursing her brother's typical but impossibly bad timing.

Her frustration was only heightened when Aang used Sokka's inopportune arrival to further avoid her. He finally set aside the grooming brush and announced rather woodenly, "It seems our guests have arrived. We should go greet them before Sokka passes out from hunger."

As he started to breeze past her, Katara caught hold of his arm and declared obstinately, "We're not finished discussing this, Aang."

He met her gaze with an inscrutable expression before lightly shaking off her hold and replying with equal obstinance, "There's nothing to discuss."

Despite his resolve on that front, however, Aang spent the next few hours proving that claim to be irrefutably untrue. Though he made a show of carefree joviality and he tried his best to remain engaged with his friends and family, it was clear to everyone who loved him that his heart wasn't in it. Aang laughed and smiled and joked away but the merriment never met his eyes. He managed to remain engaged through the blessings for future prosperity and the well wishes on Bumi's behalf as he was formally inducted as a full member into the Southern WaterTribe but once the dancing and festivities began, he couldn't maintain his joyful façade. Consequently, not even an hour into the celebration, Aang began to withdraw, taking any and every opportunity he could to excuse himself from circulating conversation and retreat to the sidelines.

His odd behavior understandably provoked a measure of concern among his and Katara's guests. And when Aang proved to be less than forthcoming about what was bothering him, his friends and family naturally sought out Katara for needed answers. For the majority of that afternoon she was left to field a barrage of questions from her father, grandmother, brother, sister-in-law, Jampa and Jinpa, the villagers, members of the WaterTribe and a host of friends who all echoed a similar, troubled refrain:

_What's going on with Aang?_

_Is Aang okay?_

_What happened to Aang?_

_Is something wrong with Aang?_

_How's Aang doing?_

She tried to pass off her husband's self-imposed isolation as being work related fatigue, stress and mental distraction related to his duties as Avatar or even a possible illness coming on. But, those who knew Aang best weren't buying those excuses at all, especially when he was behaving in a way so incongruent with his very nature. And certainly not when he was going out of his way to keep his distance from his wife and children…the three people he adored most on the earth.

Katara put on a brave face as long as she was able. She did so mainly for Bumi and Kya's sakes, because she wanted to preserve mostly happy memories for them of Bumi's first birthday. For the most part, the two remained blissfully oblivious to the tension unfolding in their household and were content to run around wildly with their cousins among the variety of loitering temple animals. Yet, by the end of the day, after maintaining her bright and bubbly act for hours on end, Katara had reached her limit. She was emotionally raw and dangerously close to tears.

So when Sokka came looking for her while she was clearing away the leftovers from the party to, once again, badger her about what was happening with Aang, Katara finally lost her patience. "I don't know, Sokka! Maybe you should ask _him_ for a change! I'm not his keeper!"

"I tried that," her brother replied mildly, "He's just as touchy as you are. He actually yelled at me for even asking if he was okay which pretty much confirms for me that he's _not_ okay. So what happened?"

"I wish I knew," Katara muttered wearily.

"I don't get it. He's been looking forward to Bumi's first birthday for months now," Sokka remarked, more to himself than to his sister, "It's all he could talk about. He was so excited you would have thought it was _his_ birthday coming up."

Katara found herself focusing on that tiny kernel of information, her mind already turning over the possible reasons for Aang's excitement. "Sokka…" she began slowly, deliberately, "Has Aang ever said anything to you about Bumi? Mentioned anything specific, I mean."

"You mean besides singing his praises about every milestone that kid hits?" Sokka scoffed sarcastically, "No, not really. Katara, are you kidding? Aang adores that baby like you wouldn't believe. Don't tell Kya but I think Bumi might be his favorite."

Hardly reassured by her brother's candid observations, Katara instead found herself groaning inwardly over the implicit implications. Was Bumi Aang's favorite because he had a special affinity for him? Or was it because he'd believed their son might be an airbender? The former might prove to be problematic going down the road but the latter was something Katara would have difficulty accepting at all, especially if it led to Aang giving Bumi preferential treatment at Kya's expense. There was that and also the fact that the idea seemed so inconsistent with what Aang had been telling her for the past six years. And how would Aang feel now that it was clear to him that Bumi was not a bender? Katara honestly didn't know what to think.

"Please don't let it be that," she muttered to herself, "Please don't let that be the reason…"

Noting his sister's distress but misunderstanding the reason for it, Sokka was quick to add, "I'm not saying that Kya isn't Aang's world. He talks about her nonstop too. She's a daddy's girl and there's no changing that but Bumi has a special place in Aang's heart. It's a father-son thing, Katara. You wouldn't understand."

"No, I don't think it's that at all, Sokka," Katara disputed in a despondent whisper, "Aang thought Bumi might be an airbender."

Sokka sucked in a sharp breath, at once keenly aware of all the unspoken repercussions of that statement. "What?"

"I walked in on him earlier today trying to get Bumi to airbend."

"And?" Sokka pressed anxiously, "Did he do it?" It killed Katara to dispel the hope flaring in his eyes right then but she reluctantly shook her head. "So he's not? He's not an airbender after all?"

"No. I'm not sure he can bend at all. Which is fine with me but…"

"I know. I know," Sokka groaned in commiseration, "If Aang got his hopes up…" He shook his head in sympathy for his friend. "He must be devastated right now."

"I don't know what he's feeling. He won't talk to me, Sokka."

"Well, that must mean it's really bad then. You know how much he struggles with being the last airbender. I don't care what he says. It eats at him and we both know it. You need to go find him." He made a gesture for her to get up when she didn't immediately rise to her feet. "_Right now_, Katara!"

"What am I supposed to do?" she cried in exasperation, "I told you that he won't talk to me!"

"That doesn't matter. Aang needs you right now…even if he won't let himself say so."

In the end, she yielded to her brother's advice and set off after her husband even though she didn't harbor much hope for success. He had been rejecting her for most of the day and she doubted he'd had a change of heart about that in the last few hours. If she was going to get Aang to talk to her she was going to have to be persistent about it.

After nearly half an hour of searching, Katara found him in his favorite meditation spot, beneath the sprawling foliage of an ancient willow tree which had grown to towering heights in a clearing just beyond the forest. She prepared herself to face Aang's anger over her intrusion and to be met with the inevitable dismissal that would follow. She didn't expect to find him on his knees doubled over instead, his face pressed into the tree's craggy trunk while he sobbed bitterly. The sight of her husband, _her best friend_, weeping and emotionally broken caused pure instinct to take over. Katara rushed forward to gather Aang into her arms, her own tears burning in her chest.

He didn't push her away, didn't resist her embrace at all. Instead, he dragged her against him and clung to her almost desperately, his face burrowed deep in her soft flesh of her belly as he continued to weep harshly. Katara rocked him against her in helpless anguish, unable to do much more than hold him while he fell apart and try very hard not to fall apart herself. It reminded her very much of that first night they had spent at the air temple when he had been overwhelmed by the renewed reality that his people were gone. He had riddled with despair then too. And much like it had on that miserable night, Katara's heart was breaking for Aang now just as it had then.

When it seemed like his tears would never stop, Katara gradually sank to her knees and cradled his face between her hands, gently but firmly encouraging him to meet her gaze. His features were contorted with grief and shame and he could barely look at her. He kept trying to turn away from her, to shrink back inside himself and hide but Katara would not let him.

"Please, Aang. You have to talk to me," she implored him tearfully, "You _have_ to talk to me. You can't keep all of this bottled inside anymore."

"I just thought…I thought…that maybe…" he choked out painfully, "…that I wouldn't be the last anymore…that I didn't have to be…that…that I could pass something on to him…that it didn't have to _die_ with me…"

"Oh, Aang…"

He suddenly shrugged out of her hold, as if he could no longer bear her compassion, and angrily scrubbed away the tears that continued to fall on his cheeks. "And it was stupid because I should have known better," he muttered hoarsely, "I never should have pushed it. But I felt so sure that I was right and I wanted it so much…"

"Aang, tell me the truth," Katara asked him in a trembling voice, "Do…Do you love him less now?"

The doubt Aang heard in her voice had a devastating effect. He whipped around to face her with a horrified gasp. "No. _No_, Katara! This doesn't change how I feel about Bumi at all! I love him. I love him so much and I feel so ashamed for _pushing_ him…for putting that _burden_ on him at all…" He staggered to his feet and covered his head with his hands, clearly beside himself with regret and self-loathing. "I can't believe I did that… How could I do that?"

Katara rose to her feet as well, feeling impotent as she watched him prowl back and forth in anxious circles, his entire being wracked with remorse. "Why didn't you tell me that you suspected?"

"Because I was afraid to say it out loud. I was afraid that it would turn out not to be true." He choked out an ironic laugh. "And it turned out not to be true anyway."

She shivered at the bitterness in his words. "You're really disappointed, aren't you?"

"Yes. I _am_ disappointed. But not for the reasons you think."

"Then what is it? Tell me why. What made you so sure?"

"There's this…thing…this connection between Bumi and me," he explained urgently, wistfully, "This feeling that I've always had for him, since the second I held him in my arms for the first time. It was like I _knew_ him and he knew me. And it was different from what I felt for Kya and even what I feel for you." He shrugged in grief, unable to make sense of that inexplicable bond he had with his son even now. "I can't explain it."

"And that's why you thought he might be an airbender?"

"Yes."

"Do you still feel it?" Katara asked tentatively, fearful of his answer but needing to know nonetheless, "That connection to him?"

Aang didn't hesitate a beat with his answer. "Yes. It's very strong."

Katara slumped forward in relief, though she couldn't explain why his response left her feeling comforted. "So you think you have a…a spiritual link with Bumi? Is that what you're saying?"

"I do. I don't know what it is or why it's there, Katara, but I do."

"So what does that mean? What happens now?"

"Nothing happens now. Nothing has changed really. Bumi isn't an airbender and I'm still the last. It is what it is."

"Aang, _everything_ has changed," Katara refuted softly, "You can't keep pretending like it doesn't matter to you whether or not our children are airbenders. Clearly, it matters."

"I don't _want_ it to matter!" he retorted vehemently, "What I did to Bumi today…I _never_ want to be that person again, Katara. Not ever."

"But there has to be a reason why you feel the way you do about Bumi," Katara reasoned, "Maybe your past lives…"

"I've already tried that," Aang interrupted flatly, mutinous tears falling anew, "They don't know anything. Just like they can't give me answers about the airbenders or why all my people had to be annihilated in the first place! _No one_ has the answers, Katara, and honestly? I'm tired. I'm tired of looking and I can't keep doing it."

"It's not wrong that you want our children to carry on your heritage, Aang. It's not a bad thing. You have to stop punishing yourself for wanting that."

"But it _can_ be bad thing, Katara," he uttered, "It has been. That desire has the potential to become an obsession with me and it _did_ become an obsession. My need for Bumi to be an airbender blinded me to _everything_ that was supposed to matter. I don't want to risk that happening _ever_ again. I'd rather die."

"Don't say things like that."

"Why not? It's true. Look what happened today. I've been terrible to you and I ruined Bumi's birthday."

"You didn't ruin it," Katara reassured him, "He and Kya are with Gran-Gran and their cousins. They're very likely in a fruit pie coma by now. As far as they're concerned, this was the greatest day of their lives."

"And as for everyone else?" Aang asked with a fair amount of dread.

"They're worried about you, of course."

Aang expelled a low grunt of self-deprecation. "Great. Now I can explain to them that I was feeling disgusted with myself because I've been such a failure as a father and a husband," he muttered, "I'm sure that will go over just wonderfully with your dad! I'm such an idiot!"

"Stop it! You're not a failure as a husband or a father, Aang."

"Right."

"You're not perfect," Katara acknowledged, "Neither am I. But I know you love our children and they love you. _I_ love you. That wouldn't be possible at all if you were this terrible person you're trying to make yourself out to be."

And because she could still read the doubt and self-recrimination plainly in his glistening eyes even after she said those things, Katara decided to prove her conviction with action instead. She pitched herself forward and hugged him hard, nearly knocking him off his feet with the force of her embrace. For a moment she tensed, expecting that he might try to push her away because he didn't immediately hug her back. But then he wrapped his arms around her tightly, enveloping her fully in the warmth of his body.

Katara shuddered with relief. She held his fast while he continued to weep silently, his hot tears soaking into the crook of her neck. They stayed that way for a long time, locked together so fiercely that it was impossible to discern where he began and she ended, clinging to one another like two castaways being tossed about on a raging, windswept sea.

It was very late by the time they returned to the air temple and, by then, most of their family and friends had thankfully retired for the evening. Only Sokka lingered but he didn't press the weary couple for too many details beyond ascertaining for himself that they were both okay. Aang was grateful for the reprieve. He knew that in the morning he would have to answer the family's questions regarding his standoffish behavior but for tonight, he wanted nothing else than to crawl under the covers, close his eyes and sleep. But when he and Katara cleared the threshold of their bedroom together and she shut the door behind them, it was clear from her expression that she had other ideas in mind.

While Aang was grateful for the forgiveness and compassion that she had so readily shown him after his actions that day, he didn't feel at all deserving of intimacy with her. Katara, however, felt differently. Undeterred by his hesitancy and hoping to dispel his lingering shame, she gently nudged him back against the door and rose up on her toes to place tender, nibbling kisses to his lips. Aang's breath escaped him in a trembling rush, his entire body shaking with the need to touch her but he didn't dare. He didn't kiss her back at all.

Determined, Katara took her exploration lower, skimming light kisses across the underside of his bearded jaw, nipping her way to his chin before nuzzling lower to kiss his exposed throat. She pressed her tongue to the delicate pulse that beat there, delighting in his responsive shiver. She stepped closer to him, fitting her body against his so blatantly, so suggestively that it caused Aang to groan her name in ragged protest.

"Kiss me back, Aang," she urged her. Her breath stirred wantonly against his skin, causing him to shiver anew. Her fingers crested beneath the folds of his robes, stroking the lean lines of his body. "Kiss me back…"

And so, he did. As the last vestiges of his emotional defenses crumbled, Aang kissed her back with every ounce of love and passion and longing he had. And in doing so, he exposed more than just his body to her but every insecurity he had secretly harbored for months, every fear that lurked deep in his heart. He made himself vulnerable to her in a way that he had never made to himself to another and by surrendering himself so completely, Aang found unrestrained freedom as well.

Later, when they lay twisted together among rumpled sheets and Katara was sprawled across his chest and sleeping soundly, Aang lay in the darkness awash with pure gratitude that Katara loved him at all. He wasn't ignorant to what loving him had cost her and yet she continued to make those sacrifices for him gladly. She had been doing so without reserve since she was fourteen years old. Aang didn't know what he had done to deserve such love but he promised himself right then that he would never, _never_ take it for granted.

That night after Aang fell asleep, he dreamed of Gyatso for the first time in years. He was twelve years old again and roaming the sun-kissed halls of the temple looking for mischief, as had been his customary habit. The corridors were alive with the sights and sounds of his people. Brightly colored robes of orange and yellow danced and swished in the gilded sunlight. The laughter of children echoed throughout. And his master was calling to him.

"Come find me, my young pupil! Catch me if you can!"

Aang laughed merrily, happy to accept the challenge. He spun through the halls on his air scooter as he chased a phantom Gyatso, going faster and faster, egged on by his mentor's affectionate taunts, "To keep up if he could." He trailed after him, gaining traction, almost catching the hem of Gyatso's fluttering robes before they danced out of his reach again. They kept up their game of push and pull with Aang almost reaching Gyatso but never quite touching him until suddenly he burst out of the temple into the courtyard. It was empty of everyone except one, lone man who stood with his back to Aang. Gyatso was nowhere to be seen.

The man was clearly not an air nomad. He was tall and lean. His stance was vaguely arrogant. His dark hair was long and slightly unkempt and was being whipped heedlessly in the gusting winds which allowed for brief glimpses of his unadorned neck just above his collar. He had no visible tattoos as far as Aang could tell. And he wasn't dressed in the customary robes of the older monks who served on the Lama Council.

Instead, he was clad in what looked to be a military uniform consisting of a deep, crimson colored overcoat, crisp white pants and high kneed, polished, black boots, the likes of which Aang had never seen before. And yet, despite his odd dress and appearance, he didn't seem out of place at the air temple at all. Aang somehow knew that he belonged there.

Curious and feeling inexplicably drawn to the stranger, Aang made his tentative approach from behind and, just as he came within a few feet of him, the man suddenly turned towards him and smiled. The sight of his face immediately caused Aang to freeze in his tracks. He even forgot to breathe.

The man's features were acutely familiar. It was _Sokka's_ face that stared back at him but not quite Sokka at all. The man also had Katara's kind, beautiful smile but most curiously…he had _Aang's_ eyes, not just the color but the laughing mischief that lurked behind them as well. Aang stood there, dumbfounded and trembling and without a single doubt that he was staring into the eyes of his adult son.

"It seems you finally caught me after all," Bumi laughed, "Took you long enough."

Before Aang could say a word in response, Bumi's image began to fade away and was replaced with the kind visage of his dead master. He could hear Guru Pathik's words echo in his mind as Gyatso smiled down at him adoringly. …_Love is a form of energy_ _and it swirls all around us…the air nomads love for you has not left this world…_

Aang awakened with a start, so disoriented in the aftermath of that bizarre dream that it took him several moments to process the persistent knocking on his bedroom door. By the time he recognized the sound, Katara had already slipped from the bed and was shrugging her nightgown down over her head. "It's my Gran," she said when he squinted up at her in drowsy befuddlement, "I think she has the kids. You should get dressed." Aang had just finished pulling on his pants when Katara opened the door to reveal a harried Kanna, a drowsy Kya and a prattling, squirming Bumi on the other side of it.

"Well, you sure took your sweet time answering the door," Kanna remarked grumpily.

"We were asleep, Gran," Katara grumbled, "It _is_ the middle of the night. What's wrong?"

Kanna emitted a low grunt of skepticism over Katara's claim that she and Aang had been asleep but she discreetly refrained from pointing out to her granddaughter that her nightgown was on backwards. Instead, she dove to the heart of what had brought her to their door in the first place. "Here," she said, thrusting Kya forward by the hand, "Take your children back."

She didn't have to hand off Bumi because he was already being preemptive and was reaching for his father. Aang plucked the wriggling baby from Kanna's arms while Katara asked, "Why? What happened?"

"Nothing's happened except the boy won't sleep and the girl won't stop flopping around like a fish out of water! They're driving me crazy and I want to go to bed," Kanna replied brusquely, "Now it's your turn. Have fun. Goodnight."

Katara was still staring after her grandmother in stunned silence when her daughter stumbled past her and Aang without so much as a "hello" and climbed into their bed uninvited. "Gran-Gran's bed is too lumpy," Kya yawned as she settled beneath the blankets, "I'm going to sleep in here with you guys now."

Sputtering over her audacity, Katara started to point out to her that no one had actually invited her to stay but Aang waylaid her intention with a defeated shake of his head. "Just let it go," he told her wearily, "She's already asleep anyway." Sure enough, Kya was snuggled deep into the covers and snoring softly.

"Now what are we supposed to do?" Katara huffed, throwing up her hands.

"Go to bed, I guess."

"Well, what about that one?" she asked, inclining a meaningful nod towards Bumi, "He looks like he's wide awake to me, Aang."

The aforementioned babbled happily, strangely fascinated with pulling on his father's beard. "He _is_ wide awake," Aang confirmed wryly.

"Ugh. Just give him to me," Katara sighed in resignation, "I'll put him down for bed."

Aang danced out of her reach when she tried to take the baby. "I've got him. You go to bed. I'll let you know if I need you."

Katara cut a longing glance over towards the bed before looking back at Aang. "Are you sure?"

"I think we can manage." He angled a glance at Bumi for confirmation. "You think we got it under control, buddy?" The baby giggled and tugged on his beard with renewed fervor. Aang grunted. "Okay. I'll take that as a yes." As if to confirm that assumption, Bumi lay his head against Aang's shoulder in a gesture of sweet contentment. Aang nuzzled him. "Did you have a happy birthday? Does that mean you forgive me for letting that teacup fall on your head earlier?" he whispered to the baby as rocked him back and forth, tenderly stroking his back as he did so, "Because, you know, Daddy is so sorry about that…"

Rather than falling asleep, as had been her intention when she crawled back into bed, Katara found herself watching her husband and son together, listening intently as Aang cooed quiet apologies to Bumi and told the little boy how very much he loved him. Katara's heart ached to see them together even as part of her was vaguely bothered by the obvious and deep affection Aang had for Bumi, especially in light of what he had confessed to her earlier that night. While she marveled at the idea of Aang and Bumi sharing a bond that went far beyond bloodlines, she also worried about the potential friction that might cause with their daughter.

Katara found herself remarking on that concern just as Aang managed to get Bumi lulled off to sleep. "You can't show favoritism, Aang," she warned him softly. Startled, Aang glanced up from his son's sleeping face to find Katara propped up onto her elbow and regarding him speculatively. "I know what you have with Bumi is different but… Promise me you won't do that. It wouldn't be fair to Kya."

"I would never do that, Katara. I love them both. I don't have favorites."

"But what you told me about Bumi tonight…"

"He's special to me. But so is she. So are you. And all for different reasons. There's no contest for my affection here."

"Okay," she said, settling back against the bed as exhaustion finally took its toll, "I just wanted to be sure."

"You don't have to worry about that, Katara," he vowed to her long after she had fallen asleep, "Not ever. I promise."

And he meant it. He would never show any partiality between his children because they were both a part of Katara, the best part of her and he adored them both completely. But Aang also couldn't deny that there was a small, secret part of himself that loved Bumi best simply because, in another life more than a century ago, it was possible that Bumi had loved _him_ best first.

**~End~**


	14. Maybe If We Said Goodbye

**A/N: This chapter contains some mature content near the end so, if you want to avoid that altogether, this is your heads up. **

* * *

**Maybe If We Said Goodbye **

"I got here as soon as I could! How is he doing?"

Katara lifted her eyes from her youngest child's pallid, unstirring features to find Aang balanced on his haunches in the windowsill of their bedroom, his expression agitated and filled with dread. There was a jumble of conflicting emotions that churned in the pit of her belly when she saw him there but the most prominent of them all was relief. She was beyond glad to see him. He was late _but_, he was there. And, at that exact moment, that was the thing that mattered most to Katara.

"His fever broke shortly before midnight and he hasn't vomited all day," she told him wearily, "He's been sleeping ever since. I think…I _hope_ we've finally turned a corner."

Aang slumped forward with a heavy, relieved sigh and hopped down from the window. "Thank goodness," he said as he closed the distance between them to join her on the bed. "I've been going out of my mind the whole way home."

He stooped forward to smooth perspiration dampened tendrils of tangled hair from Bumi's clammy forehead and tenderly kissed him there. The little boy didn't open his eyes. He barely even moved. Most alarmingly, he looked as if he'd lost at least a quarter of his body weight since the last time Aang had seen him. But, thankfully, his breathing remained even and steady and constant. Right then, that was enough for Aang. He glanced up at Katara and noted her haggard appearance. She looked as if she hadn't slept in an entire week. Aang suspected that she had not.

"When I got your message I was feared the worst," he told her gruffly, "I didn't know what to expect when I got here."

"Well, it's been pretty bad."

"Pretty bad," however, was quite the understatement. Bumi's illness had begun innocuously enough with some mild loss of appetite and a few transient bouts of nausea. Katara hadn't been overly concerned by his complaints at first because his older sister had also suffered through a similar illness the week prior and had weathered it without any lingering side effects. After 24 hours of queasiness Kya fully recovered and resumed her normal diet. The illness had proved to be so thankfully self-limiting that it hadn't required Katara's intervention at all. She had expected a comparable recovery from Bumi.

But then, gradually, the three year's old persistent nausea became active, uncontrolled vomiting which was quickly accompanied by diarrhea and fever. What had begun as a minor inconvenience quickly became a worrisome, life-threatening illness. Despite Katara's tireless healing efforts to keep her son hydrated, Bumi had been unable to keep down any food or fluid and, with his fever steadily climbing, he had quickly become dehydrated to the point of incoherence. Once he began to drift in and out of consciousness, Katara knew she couldn't wait any longer. She had finally sent an urgent message to Aang for him to return home immediately.

That had been three days ago.

In the interim, Katara hadn't slept or eaten or even left the confines of her bedroom as she kept a nonstop vigil over her ailing son. Jinpa had been a saving grace in that time, bringing Katara supplies when she needed them and keeping Kya occupied while Katara cared for Bumi. But after more than a week of the nearly constant fear that her son might die, _could_ die, Katara was bone tired, drained both emotionally and physically, and it showed in her sagging shoulders and the dark, purple smudges beneath her eyes. Now that they were finally near to the end of that long, hellish week, she wanted little more than to curl up next to her son, cuddle him close and sleep for the next thousand years.

But it was too soon to rest just yet. Katara remained anxious even with the small bit of improvement in Bumi's condition. She couldn't risk relaxing her guard until she knew for certain that the little boy was on the mend.

Aang must have sensed that unspoken determination within her because he reached across the bed to place his hand atop of hers. "You look exhausted, sweetie," he murmured, "Why don't you take a break? I'll keep watch over him."

She pulled her hand free from his, her expression remote when she replied, "I'm fine, Aang. I'd like to be here when he wakes up."

"Katara, you don't have to keep pushing yourself. I'm here now. I can help you."

"Yeah, but for how long, Aang?" she bit out with more hostility than she intended, "How long will you be here until the next crisis hits and then I go right back to doing all of this on my own?"

Aang sucked in a wounded breath at her unexpected attack but said nothing in response. After all, he knew that she was worried, sleep deprived and likely riddled with fear after Bumi's harrowing ordeal. He knew better than to take her snappish response personally and yet, despite his best efforts to remain pragmatic about it, part of him _did_ take it personally. Perhaps because, stressed or not, he and Katara had been engaged in the same argument numerous times in the past. Truthfully, he'd lost count of how many times they had hashed and rehashed the same subject. It had been a recurring theme in their marriage for the better part of nine years and it would likely continue to be a bone of contention between them for as long as Aang's duties as Avatar took precedence over being a husband and a father.

He knew she was bitter about the time he spent away from home and he didn't blame her. Times like this, when she truly and desperately needed his presence and support, likely only exacerbated her feelings about his frequent absences. It couldn't be easy managing an entire household mostly on her own and yet Katara had been doing that for the better part of six years now. Aang wasn't surprised that functioning as a single parent was beginning to wear thin with her.

Over the years he and Katara had spent countless weeks apart. There had been periods of feast and famine for their family. There were some months when he had all the time in the world to spend with his wife and children and give the needed attention to his school and students. There were times when they had enjoyed long family vacations and countless weeks in the South Pole or traveling all over the world like vagabonds as they visited one random town after another. But then there had also been months when he was barely home at all, when he would manage to steal only a few precious days with his family before he was forced to leave again.

As a result of his unpredictable and generally hectic schedule, Aang had missed many milestones, special events and family gatherings. And often, when he was present for those events, he was distracted and preoccupied because there was always someone seeking his ear or guidance or intervention in some urgent matter. He was seldom afforded with an opportunity to simply be Aang, a husband and father, a young man of twenty-eight who was still desperately in love with his wife and wanted nothing more than to be with her every moment of every day. Instead, at all moments of his life, in every possible situation, he was expected to be _Avatar Aang_, protector of the world and provider of balance. That left little time for anything else.

Due to that unhappy set of circumstances, he had a wife and children who found themselves consistently sidelined due to his ever-present responsibilities. Somehow Kya and Bumi had managed to weather his absences without seeming to harbor too much resentment towards him. Perhaps because, for most of their young lives, he had been little more than a transitory figure in their worlds from the start. They were used to him not being a constant. They didn't expect him to be there for the day to day because he never had been. That knowledge filled Aang with a strange mix of gratitude and sorrow.

He was glad that his children didn't hate him, thankful that he didn't seem to be scarring them psychologically in some unknown way or leaving them with horrible abandonment issues but, at the same time, he grieved the reality that both of them had come to accept that he would not be there for them. They didn't view him as dependable. How could they when he was perpetually in and out of their lives? They knew him but they didn't know him well. Certainly not the way they knew their mother.

While Kya and Bumi were never anything less than thrilled whenever he returned home and Aang almost always spent his every waking minute with them, he knew that short bursts of time weren't enough. He often mollified himself with the reassurance that it was quality over quantity but he knew the truth in his heart. _Quantity_ counted just as much. He could be as devoted to his children as possible but if he didn't put in the _time_ to match that devotion then he was still shortchanging them as a father.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the one who cared for their daily needs, who was there without fail every morning when they rose and every night before they went to bed. He wasn't the one who was always there to kiss their skinned knees and elbows or nurse them through a cold or sit vigil at their bedside when they were critically ill. That had always been their mother. Aang didn't doubt that Kya and Bumi could survive his loss if the time ever came. After all, they had managed a good majority of their lives without him. But Katara was their entire world. _She_ was the constant that he couldn't be.

Aang didn't begrudge that fact. In truth, he celebrated it. His children deserved nothing less and he had no doubts that Katara loved them to distraction. But he also wished fervently that he could give them that same sort of dedication. Aang wanted that _almost_ more than anything else in his life.

But, the thing he wanted most, that he would _always_ want most, was Katara. And yet, the thing he wanted most was also the thing that he feared he was in constant danger of losing. While his relationship with his children remained largely unaffected by his absences, his relationship with Katara had not gone unscathed. Often she was angry with him, frustrated and disillusioned, full of resentment whenever he had to go away and yet, conversely, seeming to resent him when he returned home as well.

Their efforts to reconnect were further hindered by the fact that Katara had her own life, her own personal pursuits. She often traveled with the children back and forth between the South and North Poles to serve as a waterbending and healing instructor. There were rare times when Aang's schedule permitted him to spend time with her but she was occupied with her own duties. And while those instances had afforded him with the opportunity to reconnect with his children, his bond with Katara remained strained.

No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't seem to find an acceptable compromise to deal with the continued conflicts that arose in their marriage. Katara often felt like an afterthought and regularly expressed that sentiment to Aang. And Aang, conversely, didn't quite know where he fit in with her anymore, wasn't entirely sure what she even wanted. Quite honestly, he was afraid to ask her because Aang didn't know if he had the emotional strength to bear her answer.

With all of those things playing through his mind right then, Aang regarded Katara with a mournful, beseeching look. "Please, Katara…" he sighed despairingly, "I don't want to fight with you again. Especially now, when Bumi is so sick. Can we table it for now?"

Her jaw tightened briefly but she nodded in compromise. "I don't want to fight with you either, Aang. I'm really tired. That's all."

"So rest," he urged, "I'll take care of the kids. You sleep."

"Not kids," Katara corrected, "Just Bumi. Kya's not here right now. She's in the village with Jinpa. I didn't want her to be here in case Bumi…in case he…" _In case he died._ Katara didn't dare say the words out loud but the grim inference was there nonetheless.

Aang recoiled from that unspoken realization as the gravity of what had almost occurred settled on him heavily. "You mean it was _that_ bad?" he gasped in horror, "Why didn't you send for me sooner, Katara? What were you thinking?"

"It didn't start off that way!" she cried defensively, guiltily, "I thought I had it under control! But then he got so sick, so fast and I didn't know what to do! I didn't expect it."

"You should have sent for me as soon as he took ill," Aang said again, but his tone was softer this time and less accusatory, "I would have come home."

"I didn't think it was that serious at first. Besides, I'm sure you had more important things to take care of, Aang," Katara replied, her words harsh with bitterness, "If I messaged you every time one of the kids took ill, you'd never accomplish anything. And, in the end, it didn't matter anyway because the worst of it was over long before you got here. You don't have to worry. Jinpa was here to assist me through the difficult parts."

"Jinpa isn't his father! I _am_, Katara! He's my responsibility! He's _my_ son!"

"Yeah, when you can get around to him," Katara scoffed.

"Don't!" he hissed at her, "Don't you dare start this again! Not right now!"

"No, _you_ started this, Aang!" Katara fired back in a low tone, "You don't get to question my decisions as a parent when you're barely even here! I did what I thought was best!"

Wisely, Aang made a cautious retreat, recognizing he was treading on dangerous ground with the direction their argument was heading. He didn't want it to degenerate into blame and belittling, which was exactly where it was headed if he didn't change course. "I'm not questioning your decisions, Katara," he told her in a deliberately neutral tone, "I am only saying that I would have liked to be here. You don't have to go through this kind of stuff alone."

"But I _do_," she argued quietly, "All the time. I go through it _alone_. You want me to depend on you but…how can I do that when you're _never_ here?"

And there it was again. That same old, inescapable argument. It always, _always_ came back around to that and Aang didn't have an adequate defense. He didn't have the words to reassure her because, after all of the promises and heartfelt apologies and tearful expressions of love and devotion, he _would_ leave again and the cycle would begin anew.

Katara saw the truth in his eyes and she shook her head, suddenly depleted of all her fight. "You're right," she mumbled woodenly, "I should have contacted you sooner. I'll remember that for next time."

The fact that she spoke with such certainty that there _would_ be a next time made Aang feel physically ill. If there was ever a time when he truly _hated_ being the Avatar it was right then. The expectations foisted upon him due to that role didn't just cost him. They cost Katara. They cost his children. And for Aang, the price felt much too steep and not at all worth the sacrifice. He stared at Katara's sullen profile, wishing devoutly that he could banish the sorrow and anger from her heart but feeling helpless to do so. How could he when he couldn't even rid it from his own?

Thankfully, they were spared from further discussion that would inevitably lead to more pain because Bumi finally began to come around. The little boy groaned weakly and parted his eyelids, his cracked lips curving in a small smile when he saw both his father and mother hovering at his bedside. "Hi," he whispered a bit groggily, "Can I go play now?" That response was so typical, so nonchalant, so unabashedly Bumi that both his parents laughed and fell on him with grateful, tearful kisses.

"How are you feeling?" Katara pressed anxiously, smoothing her hands over his small face again and again, "Would you like some water? Are you hungry? Are you in pain?" She didn't even wait for him to respond at all but began carefully bending small amounts of water into his mouth because she was aware that it had been days since he'd had anything to eat or drink.

"I want to go flying," Bumi managed after a few, obedient sips, "Daddy, take me flying on Appa..."

"How about to tomorrow? When you're feeling stronger. Okay, buddy?"

"You're here tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, I'll be here tomorrow," Aang reassured him, "I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry. Go back to sleep."

As soon as he closed his eyes again, Katara broke down into noisy, exhausted tears. She tried to stifle her sobs with her hand but the emotion that she had been damming for days now refused to be contained and it spilled from her chest in hysterical, bubbling hiccups. Aang immediately went to her side and drew her into his arms.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," he whispered brokenly into her hair, "I'm so sorry, Katara."

"I've been so scared," she wept, "I thought we were going to lose him, Aang…"

"It's okay. It's okay now. He's fine. It's okay, sweetie."

Katara cried and cried until she felt empty. Once the worst of her breakdown had passed, however, she gradually began uncurling her clenched fingers from Aang shirtfront and began the process of collecting herself. Far too soon for Aang's liking, she shrugged out of his embrace and briskly brushed away the tears that stained her gaunt cheeks. "Sorry," she mumbled, unable to meet his eyes right then, "I didn't mean to fall apart on you like that."

"Why are you apologizing to me, Katara? We're married. You can fall apart on me whenever you want."

She jerked a nod, feeling strangely awkward following his reassurance. "Thank you."

"You should go get cleaned up," he suggested gently, "I'll stay here with him, make sure he has water if he wakes. You go take care of yourself for a bit."

"I could use a bath," Katara admitted, "And I am really hungry." Her stomach gurgled for emphasis. She and Aang exchanged a stilted laugh.

"Go. We'll be fine."

Aang watched her leave with forlorn eyes, deeply cognizant of the intractable distance that remained between them. It was always like this when he first returned home. There was usually some initial awkwardness that lingered as they reacquainted themselves with one another but after a few hours the stiffness would fade and they would easily fall back into their customary banter. They would laugh together. They would play together. And then eventually, after the children were safely tucked away in their respective beds, they would make love. Lately, however, those transitions had become increasingly more difficult to traverse and it would take them much longer to rediscover that effortless comradery between them. Aang wondered if they'd be able to do so at all this time around.

Hoping to occupy his mind and keep himself from dwelling on the things he could not change, Aang took a basin and washcloth from the table that served as Katara's vanity and busied himself with giving his son a much needed bed bath. Bumi mostly slept through his ministrations, waking only briefly at odd intervals to ask random questions while his father wiped the remnants of his illness from his skin and dressed him in fresh pajamas. By the time Aang was finished, however, Bumi was a great deal more alert and Aang took the opportunity to give the little boy more water and a few small bites of bread that Katara had left at the bedside.

"How are you doing, buddy?" Aang asked him quietly, "Feeling better?"

Bumi nodded though his eyelids remained heavy with fatigue. "Where's Mommy?"

"I'm giving her a break. You're stuck with me for the time being."

"Oh."

"Is that okay?"

"Yep," Bumi replied without ever opening his eyes, "I threw up _seven_ times, Daddy."

"Seven times? That sounds like a lot. You've been very sick, huh?"

"Very sick," Bumi mumbled in drowsy agreement, "It came out my nose and splashed on Kya." He giggled at the memory, as if pleased with himself. "She screamed really loud. It was funny."

"Only you would think so," Aang teased him wryly.

"…glad you're home, Daddy. Will you stay with me?"

"Yes, I'm going to stay right here…as long as you need me," Aang promised, even while he was fairly certain he'd be unable to keep it. He pressed yet another kiss to Bumi's forehead, this one more apologetic than comforting. "Get some rest now, okay."

"You promise you'll stay?" Bumi pressed tiredly.

"I promise. Now go to sleep."

"…m'kay…" He was asleep within seconds of closing his eyes again.

Aang stared down wistfully at his son's sleeping face for a few seconds more before he finally straightened and, when he did, he suddenly became aware of the various large traveling bags and stacked parcels that were located in the opposite corner of the bedroom. Puzzled by sight, Aang drifted closer to inspect the contents of the bags. As he suspected, they were filled with clothing, supplies and other items one might need for an extended trip. He was frowning over the discovery and wondering why Katara had evidently packed them in the first place when she returned to the bedroom, fresh from her bath, adorned in little more than a clean, linen nightgown, bare feet and unbound hair and carrying a basket of fruit.

She stopped short in the threshold when she saw where Aang was standing. The air felt thick with tension as Katara glanced furtively from the bags situated near his feet back to his face. She knew immediately from his stony expression that he had already looked through them. It was also clear that he wasn't happy with what he had found.

"I brought some fruit for Bumi," she announced inanely, "I…I thought he might be hungry."

Ignoring her statement completely, Aang tipped a stiff nod towards the bags. "Are you going on a trip?"

Katara preoccupied herself with finding a place for the fruit bowl because she couldn't meet his uncompromising gray stare right then. "I…I was thinking about taking the kids and spending some time in the South Pole," she stammered lightly.

Aang surveyed the sheer volume of what she had packed and asked dubiously, "How much time are you planning?"

She forced herself to meet his eyes then, biting her lip before she finally said, "Indefinitely."

The word reverberated through the silent confines of their bedroom like a clanging cymbal and left Aang reeling. He didn't need Katara to elaborate any further than that. The implication was crystal clear. A quiet wave of panic began to unfurl in Aang's belly but he retained a relatively calm demeanor. Internally, however, he was screaming.

"Oh," he replied almost thoughtfully, "Have we really reached that point in our marriage, Katara?"

Katara stared down at her hands, misery stamped into every line of her drawn features. "I don't know, Aang."

"Is there someone else?" He hated to ask the question, felt as if he was being torn apart to even voice it aloud but he had to know. "Is that what's happening here?"

Her breath escaped her in a short, scoffing laugh. "No. Of course not."

Because her tone suggested that the notion was too ridiculous to even contemplate, Aang relaxed with her response but only marginally. Unfortunately, his next question proved to be even more excruciating to ask than the last one had been. "Do…do you still love me?"

"So much I ache inside."

He glanced at her sharply then, pinning her with tear brightened eyes. "Then why?" he uttered in an agonized tone.

"Aang, I married you so that we could be together," Katara reasoned in a gruff tone, "Not so you could be in one part of the world while I'm in another. I feel like we're living separate lives."

"Do you honestly think I want it this way, Katara?" he cried in frustration.

"That's the thing, Aang. I _know_ that you don't. I'm not blaming you."

"But you _are_ punishing me."

She made a face at him. "I'm not doing that either."

"That's what it feels like."

"I'm trying to find a solution."

"A solution to what?" he fairly shouted.

"To missing you so much!" she shouted back.

The sound of Bumi moaning in drowsy protest from the bed immediately shocked them back into reality and they both became shamefully aware of the fact that they were fighting in his presence. Recognizing the need to reassert some control, Katara waited until Bumi was settled into a comfortable sleep once more before she spoke again. When she did her tone was calm and low.

"I'm tired of living like half a person when you're not here, Aang," she sighed wearily, "It doesn't feel like a marriage at all and it hurts too much…"

"You don't think I feel the same way about you?" he challenged softly, "All I want every second of every day is to be with you, Katara."

"But you're not."

"Not by choice!"

"So what am I supposed to do? Just wait for the day when the world doesn't need you anymore? Sit on my hands and pretend that I'm okay with being dead last on your priority list?"

"You are _not_ last. You've never been last."

"Well, that's how it _feels_," she emphasized, turning his earlier words to her back on him, "I keep waiting and hoping for the day when you finally have the time, not the desire, Aang, the _time_ to be a husband and father. I'm starting to think that day will never come!"

"So what are you saying right now?"

"That I need to figure out if I can keep living this way and I really don't know if I can."

"You're…you're just _now_ coming to that realization after _nine_ years of marriage, Katara?" he burst out incredulously, "Are you kidding me?"

"I don't know what you want me to say," she replied, throwing up her hands in helpless defense, "We keep having this same fight and it doesn't change anything! Aren't you sick of going around in circles about it? I know I am. Maybe we just need to…"

"…to what, Katara?" he demanded when she trailed off into silence, visibly reluctant to finish the remainder of her thought aloud. But she had already come this far with ripping out his heart. Aang wasn't going to make it easy for her now. "We need to what? Finish it!"

"Say goodbye," she managed in a miserable whisper, "Maybe we need to say goodbye."

Aang had asked for it but the words still cut through his entire being to hear them spoken aloud. The pain was indescribable. For one intense second, he literally could not breathe. His first instinct was to run, to just get out of there so that he could get air, so that he could get free of the walls that were suddenly closing in on him. Running was tried and true and it would allow him to avoid dealing with the sudden and intense anguish that was burning and alive and threatening to consume everything inside of him. And he started to do it too, started to turn on his heel and escape through the open window without ever looking back. At the last second, however, he decided against it and charged Katara instead.

Unprepared for his abrupt approach, Katara yelped in startled surprise when Aang suddenly rushed her and framed her face in his hands before sealing his mouth to hers in a devouring kiss. At first she stiffened, prepared to push him away but then, inexplicably, she yanked him closer instead and began to kiss him back. Aang groaned at her hungry response, his slender fingers biting into her waist as he lifted her against him. The force of their passion sent them tumbling back clumsily into the open door but neither of them registered the muted thud that resulted from their unchecked fervor to be closer, to kiss deeper, to touch everywhere.

Katara eagerly made space for Aang between her legs, wrapped them around his waist as Aang deftly pushed aside her nightgown to scour her throat and shoulders and breasts with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Desire and instinctive need quickly spiraled out of control. Somewhere on the periphery of their sex induced haze they both realized they were crossing a line of propriety behaving with such unrestrained lust with their three year old son sleeping less than ten feet away. But that wasn't enough to quell their hunger for each other. Instead, Aang cupped his hands beneath Katara's naked bottom and carried her from the bedroom. He stumbled out blindly into the empty corridor beyond without ever breaking their wild, frenetic kissing.

Having attained some semblance of privacy, Aang once again pinned Katara between the wall and his body while simultaneously shoving aside his trousers to expose his rigid erection and probe her slick, swollen folds. When he finally entered her with a single, deep thrust, Katara arched into his body and released a low, ragged moan of pure satisfaction. With her nails biting into his back, Aang hooked his forearms beneath her knees to anchor her in place as he drove inside of her with a series of quick, hard thrusts.

There was no finesse. No gentleness. Just pounding, fierce, avaricious, uncontrollable lust. The darkened hallway became filled with the guttural echoes of their prurient grunts and groans and the rebounding thuds of their bodies coming together again and again and again. Aang rolled his hips against hers urgently, spurred on by Katara's wanton insistence for him not to stop, to sink deeper, go _harder_, to give her everything he had… Within minutes they were climaxing together, their choppy moans of completion muffled in a desperate kiss.

In the aftermath, they were both exhausted and emotionally spent. Aang's legs suddenly felt wobbly beneath him. He leaned his forehead lightly against Katara's shoulder and waited for his heart to cease its crazy, staccato drumming. He was vaguely aware of Katara gently nuzzling the crown of his head with airy kisses, her fingers trailing across his damp skin, her own breathing harsh and uneven.

When he felt calmer and more in control of himself, he reluctantly withdrew from Katara's body and she whimpered with the loss of contact. In slow, gradual movements he released her from his hold and allowed her to slide her trembling legs down over his hips and back to the floor . Without a word, Aang took a step back from her to readjust his clothing. Katara remained equally silent as she smoothed her nightgown back into place and covered her exposed skin. They had extreme difficulty making eye contact with one another.

Aang was the first one to find the courage to speak and, when he did, his words hoarse and quavering slightly. "No one is saying goodbye, Katara." Once he made the declaration out loud, however, he felt emboldened by the resolve. His jaw hardened and finally he looked at her, his gray gaze steely with determination. "I don't care what we have to do but we're not saying goodbye to each other."

Katara leaned back against the wall with a mournful grunt. "But did we even solve anything, Aang?" she whispered, "We're still in the exact same place. Nothing is settled at all."

"Leaving won't do that either. That's not a solution, Katara."

"Maybe I just needed you to know how it felt to be the one left behind for a change," she mumbled. Their eyes met in a penetrating stare. "But I don't _want_ to feel that way, Aang. I don't want to hurt like this. I don't want to be angry with you all the time."

"So don't be angry with me," he replied, as if the resolution were that simple, "Katara, I can't change who I am. But you know my heart. You know it's here with you. It's _always_ here with you. I'm asking you to remember that."

"I'm trying," she said, closing her eyes, "It's just sometimes…_I_ need you too, Aang. I need you _here_ with me and our children."

"And I'm here now, aren't I? I came the second I knew you needed me, Katara. Can't that be enough for now?" She looked at him then and, although she didn't answer him, he could see the yearning in the depths of her eyes, her vehement hope that it could be enough and Aang latched on to that like a drowning man clinging to a life raft. "We can figure this out. We _have_ to…because quitting isn't an option. Not as long as we love each other. And I still love you, Katara. I love you so much."

"I love you too."

"So then we fight to stay together. You can't run. And I won't run either. Do you promise me that?" When she nodded her consent and whispered her promise not to run in return, Aang leaned forward to kiss her again, sweetly, slowly. "I want you and Kya and Bumi to come with me the next time I have to leave for the city," he whispered, "We'll stay for a while. We'll figure some things out."

"Aang, we've talked about this already," Katara groaned, "I don't want to live there. The air temple is our home. It's close to the South Pole, close to my grandmother. I don't want to leave."

"I'm not talking about living in Republic City. I don't want that either. I don't want to leave the temple any more than you do. Just come and visit for a while," he coaxed her, "I made a place for us. I want you to see it."

It was difficult not to be swayed by his cajolery and proximity, especially when his breath stirred so warmly against her ear and she still throbbed and ached from his touch. Katara found herself smiling and leaning into him despite her determination to remain reserved. "You made a place for us?"

Aang inclined his head in a small nod. "I made an island," he confessed, clearly pleased with himself, "I wanted to surprise you."

"What? An island? You pulled a Kyoshi?"

"I pulled a Kyoshi," he confirmed with a proud smile, "And it's ours, Katara. It's for us."

"You built _an island_ for us? I don't know, Aang. That sounds pretty permanent. Are you sure this isn't about wanting to live there? Could you really leave the temple and everything that we have here? I'm not sure if I could."

"It's just a visit," he maintained gently, nuzzling against her lips for another kiss, "That's all. Just a place for you guys to stay when I have to work. And that's what I want. Will you come with me…please? Say yes."

"Yes," she sighed, finally giving in to his request and his efforts to draw her back against him, "I will."

**~End~**


	15. Can't Be in Two Places

**Can't Be in Two Places **

"Hey, Daddy? Are you awake yet?"

Aang flinched in response to the loud stage whisper that Bumi issued directly into his ear. Rather than open his eyes, he buried his face deeper into his pillow with an unhappy grunt and flipped the covers over his head. "Well, if I wasn't before," he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep, "then I definitely am now."

"Good," Bumi declared, "Now you can get up and teach me how to make a glider. I'm ready!"

Groaning in response to his son's abounding cheerfulness, Aang burrowed further into the bed. Truthfully, he had brought this on himself. For several months now he had been promising Bumi that he would sit down and help him construct a personal glider whenever he found the time. Kya already had one of her own and often went flying with Aang as a pastime. Bumi, naturally feeling left out of such excursions as he grew older, soon became obsessed with having a glider of his own as well. Unfortunately, the time Aang needed to build one had proven to be rather elusive due to the near constant upheaval in Republic City that seemed to regularly require his attention.

The latest threat was a group called the Triads, a felonious ring which consisted of three crime families that were made up primarily of benders. They ruled the city's underworld with an iron fist and, for a price, they would offer protection…or punishment to all those whom they oppressed. Since Toph had finally, _thankfully_ assumed the permanent role of Republic City's police chief, their illegal activity had slowed somewhat due to her zero tolerance approach to crime. Still, she couldn't be expected to keep the peace all on her own and Aang knew it would be unfair to leave her with the sole responsibility.

However, since he had returned home from this most recent trip to the city, which had resulted in yet another fight with Katara, Aang hadn't been at all keen about jumping back into work. In fact, he had ignored several messenger hawks in the interim and had even gone so far as to send correspondence back to Sokka that he was unable to return right away due to a "personal crisis." While that wasn't _technically_ true, it also hadn't been an outright lie either.

Although he and Katara had resolved their issues rather quickly following their latest disagreement and had even tentatively discussed the idea of relocating, Aang hadn't been able to easily shake the confrontation afterwards. Perhaps because it reminded him so much of a similar argument they'd had almost a year prior, an argument that had very nearly culminated in Katara leaving him. They had resolved that issue as well and had made promises to one another that they had both been very intent on keeping. And they had kept those promises too. But Aang had _never_ forgotten that night or the fear and pain the thought of losing Katara had caused him. It was unlikely that he ever would.

Aang didn't want to risk the possibility of Katara _ever_ reaching that breaking point again. So when, after only a scanty three days of being back home at the air temple, he received Sokka's urgent message that there was a problem with the Triads and that he needed to return to Republic City immediately, Aang ignored it. When he received a second notice several days later, he ignored that one as well. Finally, when a third message came with Sokka expressing concern that something might have happened to him, Aang wrote him back and explained that he was unable to come right away due to a family emergency and that he was confident that he and Toph could handle the latest issue on their own.

And while a large part of Aang did feel immensely guilty for shirking his duty and essentially dumping the mess into Sokka and Toph's laps, he also couldn't bring himself to leave. He could not risk jeopardizing his marriage. Not again. Aang took his duty to the world very seriously but Katara was _his_ world. He would never recover if he ever lost her. Nothing could be worth that, not even his ever present duties as Avatar.

He felt Bumi's weight settle against him as the little boy climbed up onto the bed to jostle his shoulder impatiently. "Daddy," he sang into Aang's ear, "Oh, Daddy? Can you hear me, Daddy? You can't go back to sleep now! _Daddy, I'm right here and I'm ready! _ You have to open your eyes!"

Feeling his incurable, inner prankster assert himself, Aang smirked mischievously and suddenly snatched an unsuspecting Bumi over his shoulder and pinned the stunned four year old to the bed for a mad tickling session. Bumi's gleeful chortles filled the room which provoked Aang's happy laughter as well. "Now you've done it," he teased as Bumi writhed and tittered and begged for mercy, "Now you've awakened the tickle monster…rawr!"

"No, Daddy…not…the…tickle monster…" Bumi managed between fitful giggles, "I'll be good! No…more…tickling…"

Satisfied with Bumi's surrender and smiling proudly, Aang flopped onto his back to catch his breath. He and Bumi grinned at one another. "That was fun," Bumi giggled, "Do that again, Daddy."

Aang rolled his eyes. "You're one crazy little kid. You know that, right?"

"Yep. Are you gonna get up now?"

"Fine," he relented, yielding to Bumi's cherubic smile as he often did, "I'll get up now. You win, you little ferret."

"Finally!"

"Give me ten minutes," he said, "I'll meet you downstairs."

Aang watched Bumi scamper out of sight before shifting upright. He really had no reason to linger in bed anyway. Katara's side of the bed was already empty so the opportunity for snuggles and early morning lovemaking had long since passed. She had risen shortly before dawn when Aang was still sound asleep and was likely in the process of preparing breakfast for the family with Kya's assistance. It was past time for him to get up anyway. Besides that, Bumi's excitement was quite infectious and Aang was looking forward to the prospect of them working on a project together.

True to his word, he made an appearance in the open dining area ten minutes later where a platter of sliced fruit and bowls of warm porridge made from roasted barley flour waited for him. Rather than helping himself to the food, however, he went off to hunt for his scattered family instead. He didn't have too lengthy a search.

Katara and Kya were in the stables together, occupied with feeding the bison while Bumi chased Momo back and forth across the courtyard. Aang stood there for a brief second and took in the simple domesticity of it all, reveled in the knowledge that he could have this beautiful, wonderful existence for the rest of his life if he didn't screw it up. As guilty as he felt for avoiding his responsibilities in Republic City, it was that particular moment that reminded him why it was worth it.

Smiling with contentment, Aang crept up behind Katara as she carried on a one-sided conversation with Appa about the travails of parenthood and slipped his arms around her waist. She emitted a throaty giggle when he pressed a sweet kiss to the crook of her neck. "Good morning, beautiful wife," he whispered against her skin.

"Good morning, beautiful husband," she replied as she turned in his arms, "Nice of you to finally join us."

"Well, it wasn't all my idea," Aang replied, tipping an ironic glance in their hyperactive son's direction, "I had external motivation."

"That was kind of my fault," Katara confessed sheepishly, "He's been yammering about that glider all morning. I couldn't take it anymore. He was driving me crazy."

"So you sent him upstairs to drive _me_ crazy, is that it?"

Katara nodded shamelessly. "Yes. Yes, I did."

"Good to know that you're really riddled with guilt over it," Aang joked wryly.

"No. I'm not really. Not at all," Katara laughed before rising up on her tiptoes to peck his pouting mouth. She was in the process of coaxing a smile out of him with several nibbling kisses when Kya and Bumi made their way over to them. At the sight of their parents nuzzling and kissing, both children kicked up quite a production of gagging and groaning and dramatic eye rolls.

"Ugh," Kya sighed in longsuffering disgust, "Really Mom and Dad? You guys are so oogie. We haven't even had breakfast yet."

"Yeah, stop being oogie!" Bumi piped in.

Although it had been quite a few years since Aang and Katara had heard that term, at least while they were within earshot, they both knew _exactly_ where it had come from. But while Aang was amused to hear it again and coming from the mouths of his own children no less, Katara didn't find it quite as humorous as he did. In fact, she appeared mildly irritated. Wisely then, Aang was careful to mask his laughter behind an exaggerated cough. Not at all fooled by his efforts, however, Katara shot him a quelling look before plunking her hands on her hips and addressing their daughter with an equally censorious glower.

"Oogies, huh?" she said tartly, "That's an interesting word, Kya. Wherever did you hear it?"

"It's not _my_ word, Mom. That's what Uncle Sokka calls it whenever you and Daddy kiss."

"I'm going to throttle him," Katara vowed direly, "The next time I see him I _am_ going to throttle him. Make a note of it, Aang."

"Yes," Aang replied with a dutiful nod, "Throttle Sokka. Got it."

Before his mother could launch into a full-fledged rant about her older brother and his supreme lack of maturity and decorum, Bumi tugged on the leg of his father's trousers in a bid for attention. "Can we please make my glider now?" he whined, "It's taking _forever_."

Just as Aang was about to predictably give into Bumi's sulking request, Katara interjected, "After breakfast. You know the rules, Bumi. First, we eat and _then_ you play."

Despite Bumi's disappointed grumbling, breakfast proved to be a pleasant affair. The family chitchatted about their plans for the day, their various encounters and experiences throughout the week, the weather and even about how nice it was to have Aang home. It was an ideal morning, a perfect family moment that both Aang and Katara both wished they could freeze in time indefinitely. But, unavoidably, the looming threat of Aang's almost certain departure lurked like a portentous cloud overhead. It weighed on the minds of everyone present even if no one readily broached the subject. However, when Aang failed to address the unspoken question, Katara decided to bring it up herself.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything because I couldn't be happier to have you here but," she began tentatively after taking a bite of fruit, "you've been home almost two weeks now, Aang, and nothing has exploded. Does that mean we've turned a corner and you'll be able to spend more time at home or…are you probably going to have to leave again soon?"

Katara was well aware of the chaotic events taking place in Republic City recently. Suki was good enough to keep her updated on the details that Aang tended to omit. And because of that, Katara suspected that this probably wasn't a good time for the Avatar to be away from the city for long stretches and she said as much to Aang.

Aang had difficulty meeting her gaze directly when he answered but he forced himself to do so, hoping devoutly that Katara couldn't read the dishonesty in his eyes as he replied, "Sokka and Toph have it under control. It's not that bad, Katara. I can stay for a while yet."

"Really?" Katara regarded him with a wide, allayed smile. "Are you sure?"

"There's no place else I'd rather be," he replied and, right then, it was the most honest thing that he could tell her.

A raucous chorus of cheers went up from his family but most notably from his children. "That's great, Dad!" Kya exclaimed, rubbing her hands together in anticipation, "Because I've got so many plans for us! There's a lower mountain ridge that you _have_ to see!"

"Is that so?" Aang laughed.

"I get him first, Kya!" Bumi burst out petulantly, "I want my glider!"

"Well, there's no reason why your sister can't help us," Aang considered pragmatically in an attempt to waylay their potential tug-of-war over him, "She knows how it's done. What do you say, little bug? You want to help me and Bumi build his glider?"

Katara and Kya exchanged a brief, unspoken glance, an exchange that went largely unnoticed by Aang. "Actually, Mom and I are going to the lake after breakfast to train," Kya told him, "But I wouldn't mind flying with you guys after we're done." She glanced over at her mother for approval. "Is that okay with you, Mom?"

It was a well-known fact that Katara wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of Kya flying. Although the nine year old had become quite skilled at navigating her glider in the last few years despite her lack of airbending ability, it always made Katara nervous to see her daughter soaring so effortlessly overhead. Kya would often stay aloft for hours at a time, flying far beyond the air temple's mountain ridge. There was no denying that her daughter was as at home among the birds as she was within the sea…a child of both air and water.

Kya would glide high above the treetops and without any assistance from her father at all, something Katara wasn't especially keen on because she vividly recalled how many times Kya had tumbled out of the sky when she was first learning. Thank goodness for Appa, his brood and their quick reflexes. Katara wasn't exactly looking forward to going through that same terrifying experience with Bumi. Still, it wasn't often that Aang was able to be home with them for such an extended period of time. This was a special occasion that required special consideration. In light of that, Katara didn't want to begrudge her children's fun.

"Sure. I'm fine with it."

"Awesome!" Kya turned back to her father then, her expression becoming inexplicably sheepish and uneasy. "But Dad, before we go to the lake, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"What is it, Bug?" he asked after swallowing a mouthful of porridge.

Once again, she glanced at her mother, as if looking for reassurance. Katara inclined her head in an imperceptible nod. "It's that name. I don't like it anymore," Kya confessed in a mumble, "I don't want to be called 'little bug.'" Aang choked on his next bite of food as his daughter continued in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'm getting older now, too old for baby nicknames, and I don't want to be referred to as a bug anymore. I am _not_ a bug."

"But you sure do _look_ like one," Bumi snickered which earned him a sharp, "Bumi, hush up!" from his mother.

After pinning her brother with a warning glare of coming retribution, Kya went on with a demure sniff, "I'm becoming a woman now and I would prefer to be called by my real name from this point on."

"A woman?" Aang echoed dubiously, "Kya, you're nine years old."

"Actually, I'm nearly nine and _a half_. That's _almost_ a woman," she insisted hotly, "The point is…I feel very strongly about this."

"Since when? You've never had a problem with it before. Does this have anything to do with that boy you like…that Tashi?" Aang wondered, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He had only recently learned of Kya's crush on the fourteen year old village boy and the knowledge didn't exactly delight him.

"No!" Kya cried, but her bright, crimson blush told another story altogether.

"Aang, this isn't anything new," Katara interrupted gently when she could see that he was struggling with the idea, "Kya decided this months ago."

"You're the only one who didn't know," his daughter pointed out softly.

It was an unintentional but stark reminder to Aang of how much he actually missed when he was away from home. His daughter had outgrown her childhood nickname and he hadn't even been aware, didn't even know when the change happened. He also couldn't pinpoint exactly when Kya had stopped referring to him as "Daddy." He had simply come home one day and she had called him "dad" and that had been his title ever since, except for a rare slip here and there. For Aang, it seemed like there had been no transition at all. Kya had seemingly grown up overnight and he was missing those key moments with her. The realization made him sad.

"Are you mad?" Kya wondered timidly when she noted her father's crestfallen expression, "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Dad. You can still call me that if you want."

"No, sweetie," Aang sighed, shaking his head, "I won't do that. If you want me to call you 'Kya' then I will. It's your name after all."

"Yeah, but…you look sad."

"I _am_ sad. You're growing up so fast and I feel like I'm missing it. You're not my little girl anymore and I don't know when that changed."

He was unprepared when she leapt to her feet and suddenly flung her arms around his neck in a firm hug. Aang hugged her back. "Aww, Daddy, that's not true. I'm _always_ going to be your little girl," she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Ugh, enough hugging," Bumi groaned out plaintively, "Can we _please_ make my glider now?"

After waving Katara and Kya off for the morning, Aang and Bumi set to work on gathering the materials and tools they would need to construct Bumi's personalized glider. They found an open spot in the courtyard that was relatively clear of animals and laid their items out there. Momo hovered on the periphery of their work station, curious to watch their progress together. As Bumi and Aang worked diligently on the assembly the little boy couldn't help but notice the stark differences between his glider's design from that of his father's. He wondered aloud about those distinctions and why they existed at all.

With a thoughtful frown, Aang set aside his tools for a moment to address his son. "Well, the reason our gliders are different is because I can manipulate the air current when I'm flying, Bumi," he explained, "and that's enough to keep me airborne. You, however, will need to _ride_ the current so the design of your glider has to be modified."

Bumi squinted at him, clearly struggling to grasp the concept. "That's a lot of words. What does that mean, Daddy?"

"Allow me to give you a demonstration."

Aang reached for his own glider and flicked it open. And then, without any need for a running start, he simply launched his body skyward and went airborne. Bumi watched from below in dumbfounded amazement as Aang executed several graceful loops mid-sky before finally returning to the ground with just as much ease as when he'd left it. A small smile ghosted his lips when he saw Bumi's enraptured expression. He stooped down to pass Bumi his partially constructed glider.

"Now you try it," he urged softly.

Bumi glanced from the glider, which had the wing portion of the apparatus and a harness constructed but not much else, and then back to his father's face. "But it's not finished yet," he protested.

"For the purposes of this lesson, it doesn't have to be. Just try to take off and see what happens." Like his father had before him, Bumi jumped with all of his might and tried to launch himself into the air. Predictably, he went nowhere and, instead, lost his footing and tumbled to the ground with a scowl. "So what did you learn?" Aang asked him gently after he had picked himself up again.

"Bumi fall down. Go boom," the little boy answered with extreme grumpiness.

Aang chuckled at his unabashed disgruntlement. "Okay, let's try again but _this time_ I'll manipulate the air current for you." After strapping Bumi safely into the harness, ensuring that it was deftly secured and reviewing with Bumi the importance of keeping a firm grip on the glider's framework, Aang launched his son skyward on a jet of air. Bumi's resulting, "Yippeeee, Daddy, I'm flying," made Aang laugh out loud. He kept Bumi aloft for only a few seconds before coasting him back down to the ground on a gentle pocket of air.

"That was the best, Daddy!" Bumi gushed as Aang unfastened him from the safety harness, "Can we do that again?"

"We will," Aang promised, "And you'll do it on your own. _Without_ my help too."

"But that's why my glider has to be different," Bumi reasoned in afterthought, "because I'm not an airbender like you."

"That's right."

"I wish I _was_ an airbender," Bumi sighed.

Aang regarded him with a wistful smile as the vision of the future vision of Bumi as a young man blended with the four year old version that was before him. He had seen a glimpse of the man his son would become and it had been nothing less than magnificent, everything he had always imagined Bumi would become. Consequently, when he spoke his reassurance to his son Aang's words were without artifice and completely heartfelt.

"Bumi, I think you're incredible just the way you are and I wouldn't want you any other way," he told his son softly, "Besides that, airbending is just a skill that I have. There are plenty of skills that _you_ have that I don't."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Well, take your boomerang, for instance," Aang reasoned, "I could never learn to do that."

"Yes, you can, Daddy!" Bumi piped excitedly, producing the aforementioned tool from the waistband of his tunic, "It's easy. I can teach you!"

Bumi's lesson was simple. He plotted the trajectory of the boomerang and threw it. Both he and Aang watched as it whirled elegantly through the air, clipping off several tree branches in its ricocheting journey back to Bumi's hand. Aang emitted a low whistle of pride as he witnessed his son's smooth execution. He was still murmuring his admiration when Bumi skillfully caught the boomerang and passed it to him.

"Now you try it," he instructed, his small face full of expectation.

Aang took a deep, fortifying breath and attempted to mimic his son's efforts. He charted his trajectory. He launched the boomerang and… It tumbled in a pitiful cartwheel before landing a few inches from Momo.

Disappointed by his father's results but not deterred, Bumi ran to retrieve the boomerang and passed it to Aang once more. "Try again, Daddy. This time breathe and concentrate."

Once more, Aang followed his directions. He breathed. He concentrated. He yielded similar results. Subsequent throws were no more successful than the first had been. By the end of his "lesson" Aang had broken several pieces of pottery, had sent a beleaguered Momo ducking for cover, several bison scattering to safety and had incurred his son's everlasting pity.

"You're not very good at this, are you, Daddy?" he observed rather bluntly.

"I just need some practice."

Bumi regarded him with an owlish expression, shaking his head in chagrin. "I thought you were good at everything."

"Why do I feel like you're enjoying this?"

Before Bumi could make a dramatic production of claiming otherwise, though his impish smirk told an altogether different story, his mother and sister arrived back at the temple fresh from their waterbending practice. "How's the glider coming al…" Katara trailed off into stunned silence as she took note of the surrounding wreckage, "What on earth happened here?"

"I tried to teach Daddy the boomerang," Bumi volunteered, "He's terrible, Mommy."

"Must you tell everyone?" Aang grumbled.

He was in the process of reassuring Katara that he would clean up the mess when suddenly the oblong sphere of a Fire Nation airship appeared over the ridge of the mountain and came into full view. In years past such a sight would have provoked a sense of foreboding and would have struck immediate fear in the hearts of all who saw it, particularly Aang and Katara. Today, however, it stirred up happy excitement in their children as they took off running in the ship's direction as it came in for a landing.

"It's Uncle Zuko!" Bumi cried as he and his sister raced.

"No! Look at the markings," Kya argued, "That's Uncle Sokka!"

Minutes later, Kya's assumption was confirmed when her uncle emerged from the airship. He had barely cleared the threshold before both his niece and nephew were launching themselves into his open arms with glad cries. "Whoa! Hey!" he laughed in between peppering both of their faces with kisses, "You two have gotten bigger since the last time I saw you! What are your mom and dad feeding you and why don't they share it with others?"

Kya laughed and craned a look over his shoulder. "Where's Aunt Suki and Anik, Tikaani and Nilak? Did you bring them? Are they in the ship? Are you going to stay for a while?"

Before Sokka could answer even one of those questions, Bumi was following up with his own questions, albeit rhetorical ones. "Guess what, Uncle Sokka? I tried to teach Daddy how to throw the boomerang. But he's no good at it. No good at all."

"You're really not going to let me live that down, are you?"

Upon becoming aware of Aang's presence, Sokka abruptly sobered and slowly lowered both children to the ground. "You don't look sick," he observed, his words clipped with disapproval.

"I never said I was."

Katara bounced a curious look between her brother and husband, sensing that something serious and unspoken was going on between them though she had no idea what it could be. "What are you doing here, Sokka?"

"Aang and I have some business to discuss," Sokka replied cryptically. He nodded towards the children before addressing his sister once more. "Do you think you could give us a minute?"

"You're not taking Dad back to Republic City, are you?" Kya cried in dismay.

"Don't do that, Uncle Sokka," Bumi added mournfully, "We want to keep him with us!"

"Come on, you two," Katara sighed, herding her children back towards the temple despite their muttering protests, "This is grown people talk."

"But I wanna stay! _I'm_ grown," Kya insisted stubbornly as they retreated in the distance.

Aang smiled as he heard Katara's flippant reply to the contrary. "In your dreams, Kya." Unfortunately, that smile was short-lived when he turned to face Sokka again and found the WaterTribe warrior scowling at him. Rather than address the reason for Sokka's justified censure, Aang instead focused his attention on tidying up the surrounding area. Sokka, however, refused to be dissuaded by Aang's efforts to ignore him. In fact, he dogged the airbender's every step.

"You want to tell me what's going on with you?" Sokka demanded.

"I'm cleaning up," Aang evaded, "You're free to help."

Grunting in response to that, Sokka toed the edge of Bumi's half constructed glider before stooping to inspect it more closely. "I didn't realize that kite building fell under the category of 'personal crisis,'" he remarked with blazing sarcasm as he straightened, "I thought you might be on your deathbed or maybe something had happened to the kids or Katara."

"It's not a kite. It's a glider for Bumi," Aang corrected, before finding the wherewithal to address the crux of Sokka's argument, "And I didn't mean to worry you. I just…I needed some time."

"Time?" Sokka parroted indignantly, "Aang, the city is descending into madness and you're out here playing games."

Unable to argue with Sokka or even defend his actions, Aang massaged his temples wearily. "What's going on now?"

"You mean besides Bin Lu attempting to convince the council that there should be a division in the city between benders and non-benders? Not so much."

Aang groaned anew. Bin Lu was one of the foremost members on the Republic City council and he was, quite simply, a pain in Aang's butt. Their relationship had been a contentious one from the very start in spite of Aang's repeated efforts to compromise with the man. He was twice Aang's age and a career politician who was quite savvy when it pertained to making a city run smoothly. Naturally then, he felt he had far more experience at overseeing the URN's capital than a man who was barely thirty years old and with only a fraction of his knowledge, Avatar or no Avatar. Aang didn't completely disagree with him but the council had voted and they had chosen Aang. But no matter what efforts Aang made to work with Bin Lu, he and the older man continued to butt heads about Republic City affairs. This latest stunt was really nothing new.

"He's doing what exactly?"

"The situation with the Triads is getting worse," Sokka explained, "There's a demarcation happening in the city between benders and nonbenders. In an effort to 'contain the violence,' Bin Lu wants to designate one area of the city for benders only 'to protect the non-bending population.'"

"That's ridiculous. That's only going to cause more division, especially because the Triads are targeting benders too."

"That's what I said! But he's starting to sway some of the council members over to his argument, especially since you've been MIA for days. He keeps using the argument that the city is evidently so dangerous that even the Avatar won't bring his family to live there."

"That's not the reason I choose not to live there."

"It doesn't matter. Bin Lu is a politician. It's all about optics and the optics say that you think the city is trash. You even built yourself an island so you can be far removed from it."

"Ugh," Aang grunted, "He's such an ass."

"You need to come back. The situation is getting really tense and Toph isn't helping. You know she has no patience for all that diplomatic stuff."

"What about you? Can't you take care of it?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said? I've been trying this entire time! We need you."

"Sokka, I can't. I need to be here with my family."

"Look, I get it," Sokka sighed in commiseration, "You haven't been home very long and now you have to leave again. I know that sucks. I've been there. But this is _your_ job as Avatar. No one else can do it."

"I told you I can't go!" Aang retorted sharply.

"You can't possibly be this shortsighted, Aang!" Sokka cried, "Come on! I know better than anyone how hard it is to leave your wife and kids behind. I know what this job cost you because it costs me the same thing! It's difficult but you and Katara will get through it just like me and Suki did."

"Oh yeah?" Aang challenged, his words edged with bitterness, "Did Suki ever try to leave you? Because _Katara_ did!"

_That_ shut Sokka up pretty effectively. He actually stumbled back a step. "What? Katara tried to leave you?" The idea was so ludicrous that Sokka had a hard time even believing it and that was evident from his dubious expression.

"It was a while ago," Aang explained, "You remember when I came home that time because Bumi was so sick?" Sokka nodded. "It was then. She had their bags packed and everything."

"Oh wow, Aang. I didn't know that."

"And the other night when I got home we had another fight and it was the same as the one we had that night and… I'm afraid if I leave this time when I come back she won't be here."

"Do you really think that's going to happen?"

Aang dropped to the ground and buried his face in his hands. "I don't want to risk it, Sokka."

Sokka folded down beside him with an empathetic sigh. "Aang, you can't keep doing this. You can't be in two places at once."

"I know that. Don't you think I know that?"

"Then change it! You know what you need to do. You've known this whole time. I think that will be the best solution, don't you?"

"Katara and I talked already talked about relocating to the city. She's open to the idea and she agreed but I can tell she's not thrilled about it. She's worried about your grandmother."

"Gran will be fine. She won't like leaving the South Pole but I don't think she'll want to be separated from Kya and Bumi either. Don't think I don't know that your kids are her favorites."

Aang dismissed the last part of his statement with an eye roll. "Convincing Kanna to come with us is only part of it, Sokka. The truth is, I don't want to leave the air temple any more than Katara does. This is our home."

"But if this is a way for you two to stop having that same old fight, isn't it worth it?"

"Of course it is. All I want is to be with her and Kya and Bumi."

"Then just make the move. Commit to the decision, make your peace with it and don't look back. Because you can't keep hiding from your responsibilities, Aang."

"Is that what you've been doing?"

Both Aang and Sokka glanced up sharply at Katara's question, unaware that she had even made her approach until they saw her standing there. Easily discerning that his sister and brother-in-law had some things to discuss and having accomplished what he'd set out to do, Sokka finally rolled to his feet. "I should probably go," he sighed, "Sorry I couldn't stay and visit longer, Katara. Tell the kids I said goodbye. We'll catch up soon though."

"Yes, we will," she agreed, stepping forward to enfold him in a brief hug, "And, when we do, we'll have a nice, long chat about all of the wonderful things you're teaching my children."

Sokka cut an apprehensive glance over at Aang. "Why do I feel like I'm in trouble right now?"

"Because you _are_ in trouble," Aang confirmed. _Welcome to the club_, he added silently when he caught Katara's dour expression.

After Aang and Sokka said their goodbyes to each other and Aang had reassured the Watertribe warrior that he would likely follow him shortly, Katara came to stand alongside him as he watched Sokka's airship slowly lift towards the sky and gradually disappear over the horizon. For a long time he and Katara didn't say a word to one another, each one bracing for the emotional discussion that they knew was about to follow. Aang dreaded the probable fight that may come. Katara dreaded telling him goodbye. But, in typical fashion, Katara was the first to push past her dread and break the silence.

"When do you have to leave?" she asked gruffly.

"Soon," he answered with equal gruffness, "I should have been gone days ago actually."

"So I gathered. Why didn't you say anything?"

"We just had that fight when I came back," Aang argued, "I didn't want to rock the boat."

"So you thought _lying_ was a better way to go?" she bit out tartly.

"Not better," he countered softly, "I didn't want to leave you, Katara." They regarded one another in a brief moment of profound silence before Aang finally looked away. "I never want to leave you but it always comes down to this, doesn't it?"

"That's what comes with being the Avatar," Katara mumbled.

Katara thought that her tone was neutral, even wistful and reflective. She didn't detect the note of frustration and resentment that quaked beneath her words. But Aang did. And he knew he couldn't let it go on. Sokka was right. He couldn't be in two places at once…and he needed to do something about it before he lost the person who meant the most to him.

"I'm probably going to be gone for a few weeks this time, Katara," he told her, "And while I'm gone, I'd like you to start packing up the temple."

She blinked at him in startled dismay, clearly blindsided by the plan despite their recent discussion. "So, we're really going to do it? We're not going to think about it any further? It's decided? Just like that?"

Aang regarded her woefully. "What choice do we have, Katara? I don't want to jeopardize our marriage. Do you?"

"We're not jeopardizing our marriage, Aang."

"You say that but we both know that's not true," he murmured, "We can't go on this way. You deserve more. You deserve better."

"Aang, I don't-,"

"—Listen to me," he pressed on before she could argue further, "I want us to be a family. I want to be there for the day to day. I don't want to miss anymore milestones with our children. I want to sleep in the same bed with you every night and wake up with you in the morning." He swept her hands up in his own, his expression earnest when he said, "I want to be with you and if that means leaving the air temple behind, then I'm willing to do that."

"Aang, you grew up here. We raised our children here."

"No. _You_ raised our children here. _I_ visited. We'll raise our children _together_ in Republic City."

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. And, if that's my fault…because I haven't been understanding enough…"

"You _have_ been understanding, Katara. I'm being realistic now," he averred with a rueful smile, "Aren't you the one who's always harping on me to have a plan? Well, _this_ is my plan."

"But everything is happening so fast," she protested, "We barely discussed this two weeks ago and now you're talking about packing up the temple. There's so much to do. I have to talk to my grandmother. We need to make arrangements for the school. We have to talk to Anil to see if he's even willing to take on the responsibility. And then there are the kids and the animals and-,"

He pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, staunching the remainder of her argument. "We can do this," he whispered, "We've never let fear of the unknown to stop us before and we shouldn't start now. I know we can do anything if we're together, Katara. Do you believe that?"

"I believe it," she whispered back, "I've always believed it."

"Good," he commended, "We'll finalize the arrangements before I leave and sit down with the kids. I'm anticipating that Kya won't take it too well but… It's going to work out. This is going to be good for us. I know it."

But, as Aang made the reassurance, he realized that it was as much for his own benefit as it was for Katara's.

**~End~**


	16. Reflections

**Reflections **

There were poignant memories in every corner of the Southern Air Temple. That recognition provoked Katara's wistful sigh. She was overwhelmed by them all again and again as she plodded the long, winding stone staircase that led to the air temple's highest point.

It had taken her and Aang nearly two months to finalize all of the details regarding their relocation to Republic City. Now that the time to say goodbye was rapidly drawing closer, Katara felt nothing short of ambivalent. As far as the move was concerned, she hadn't sorted out her feelings about that at all. But as it pertained to the air temple, Katara's heart was aching profoundly over the thought of having to leave it. Consequently, she had awakened that morning feeling subdued and more than a little nostalgic.

After breakfast, she had assigned the children with their respective tasks for the day and left them in the watchful care of her grandmother while she completed what was supposed to be her final walkthrough of the entire temple. But what had begun with purpose and focus soon became a meandering stroll down memory lane. After a few hours without accomplishing much of anything in the way of last minute packing, Katara gave up the pretense altogether. She wandered the grounds aimlessly and allowed the memories to wash over her. And after eleven incredible, indelible years of life spent there, there were plenty of those to relive. Some of her most prominent had taken place at the very top of the Southern Air Temple.

But the first time she had traveled to the temple's summit had been years before she and Aang were married. They had been kids back then, still kissed by naivete and childish innocence. Aang had been brimming with excitement to share with her "one of his most favorite places in the world." He had been only fifteen at the time and Katara recalled with a fond smile how he had practically bounded up the endless procession of stairs, his feet barely touching them at all as he had dragged her behind him.

She hadn't exactly shared his enthusiasm at the time. When he told her that he meant to take her to the very top of the looming air temple and that they would have to climb hundreds of stairs to get there, she had wanted to bow out completely. As an airbender, the love of heights was seemingly ingrained into Aang's DNA. He couldn't get enough of them because he felt most at home when he was among the clouds. As for Katara, she definitely preferred being closer to the ground. Her opinion on that front was only reinforced when she and Aang finally reached their destination and she saw exactly what Aang meant to share with her.

_"__There's no wall."_

_Aang grinned at her, the same irreprehensible grin that he always gave her when he knew he was about to ask her to do something outside of her comfort zone. "Katara, it will be fine."_

_"__That's a balcony with no wall, Aang."_

_That was the only way she could think to describe it. The uppermost floor of the Southern Air Temple rather resembled an open courtyard instead of an actual room. There were moss covered marble statues in varying states of disrepair, white-washed pillars that were encircled with gnarled, creeping vines and the remains of broken, dilapidated stone benches that were stained with age. _

_Beyond that space was something that resembled a terrace. It surrounded the entirety of the courtyard and seemingly led out into open space. There was no wall surrounding it. No border whatsoever, which made it entirely possible to walk right up to the edge…which was exactly what Aang seemed to have in mind._

_Katara rooted herself in place and began wildly shaking her head as Aang tried, unsuccessfully, to coax her forward. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm going out there."_

_"__Well, you'll never see what I'm trying to show you if you stay here," he reasoned._

_"__Couldn't you just describe it to me?"_

_"__Believe me when I tell you that it's beyond description," he sighed winsomely. And then he held out his hand to her. "Trust me, Katara. I won't let you fall."_

And he hadn't. It had required every bit of courage Katara possessed to, not only walk out to that edge but, actually _sit down_ and let her legs dangle over the side hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air. At first, she'd found it impossible to relax for several reasons. The height had most definitely been a pertinent problem. However, Katara had also been concerned with the balcony's structural integrity, especially when she noted several spots where it had sustained damage in the Fire Nation raid that had left the temple decimated.

Aang, however, had been relatively unbothered by it all. He had placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, waiting patiently for her to untuck her face from the folds of his shirt. When she finally found the wherewithal to do so, Katara at last understood why he had been so keen on taking her there.

From that daunting height it was possible to see all the peaks of the craggy mountain range that surrounded and enveloped the temple. They glistened like chiseled jewels in the spilling sunlight, snowcapped and pristine and blanketed in gossamer clouds of morning. The sight of it all was indescribably beautiful and Katara understood immediately why Aang loved it so much. She felt as if she were literally sitting on top of the world.

That day was the first time Aang had ever kissed her with anything beyond sweet intent. Up until that point in their romantic relationship, they had primarily held hands and shared brief, lingering kisses but had shied away from anything more intimate than that. The potential for passion was there, bubbling just beneath the surface, but always carefully restrained. In those days it hadn't been especially difficult to maintain chasteness either as it was an unusually rare occasion when they were actually alone together.

Even on that particular day they weren't alone at the air temple but had been accompanied by Sokka, Suki and Toph. The air temple was meant to be only a brief stop on their way to the Earth Kingdom. But Sokka, Suki and Toph had opted to stay on the ground while Aang had shown Katara alone this special place. And in that cocoon of relative privacy he had kissed her without reserve, revealing for the first time the depth and intensity of the desire he had for her.

They hadn't done anything especially risqué that day. Nothing more than passionate kissing and a few, tentative caresses but it had marked a turning point in their relationship, a loss of innocence, a progression towards adulthood. That was the day that Aang and Katara finally let themselves acknowledge that, beyond the all-encompassing love they felt for one another, they also wanted one another as a man and a woman. And, although it would be another three years before they officially became lovers in the most basic sense, their journey towards sexual intimacy had definitely begun with that kiss.

Katara found herself standing in the center of that upper courtyard, reliving that memory with a wistful smile. She and Aang had come a long way from those two gauche teenagers tentatively fumbling their way towards maturity and sexual expression. In the years that had passed since that day she and Aang had explored each other's bodies in ways that her seventeen year old self hadn't even been able to imagine. They had made lifelong pledges to one another, made babies together and made love in almost every corner of that air temple. Katara chuckled to herself when she thought of those early days and how utterly shameless they had been.

Aang had been so carefree back then, so uninhibited and so eager to have her whenever and wherever he wanted. It had been exhilarating, glorious but had felt vaguely forbidden as well. For that reason, Katara had felt a measure of hesitation and uncertainty at first, a discomfort in knowing that they were enjoying each other so brazenly in what could be constituted as a sacred place. Of course, Aang had argued that what they shared between them was equally sacred and therefore appropriate but Katara had remained skeptical. Somehow "sacred" wasn't quite the word she would have used to describe the scandalous things she and Aang did to each other when they were alone. In fact, those "scandalous things" were exactly the reason she was in her current predicament.

Her smile faded a bit with the thought. Sighing at that unwanted reassertion of reality, Katara sat down on one of the abandoned benches to contemplate the situation. She was pregnant. She had come to that firm realization only seventeen days earlier when she was in between making the necessary arrangements for Anil to take over the acolyte school and trying to convince her daughter that this move wouldn't be the "most horrible thing ever." It had come to her without fanfare, when she, at last, acknowledged to herself that her growing list of symptoms couldn't be attributed to anything else. She was even able to pinpoint exactly when she had conceived as well.

But while Katara was able to come to terms with her new pregnancy with an almost clinical detachment, when she actually contemplated the prospect of telling Aang…_that_ was when she truly began to panic. She fully intended to do so but the execution was not simple by any means. Because Aang was so preoccupied, flying back and forth between the air temple and Republic City, and she was equally busy with making arrangements there hadn't really been an opportunity to sit him down to have a discussion about it. Not that she was at all eager to do that anyway.

The timing could definitely be better. But that tended to be the case whenever it came to her and Aang and their best laid plans. And the plan had been to move to Republic City, enroll Kya and Bumi in regular school there and then get down to the business of reacquainting themselves as a couple but, most importantly, as best friends. In the past few years, Aang and Katara hadn't been afforded with a great deal of time to devote exclusively to their relationship and both of them were looking forward to rectifying that unhappy situation.

It wasn't that their marriage was rocky. For the most part, it was stable and punctuated by deep respect and abundant love. But that didn't mean that they didn't have their share of problems. That didn't mean that there wasn't room for improvement or that their marriage hadn't grown occasionally stagnant over the years. Republic City was their opportunity to start over, to begin again and reinvigorate the love they had for one another, to deepen that love.

That was going to be next to impossible with a new baby underfoot.

By now, after having given birth to two children, Katara was hardly naive in the ways of childrearing. She knew how much work was involved in raising a child let alone in caring for a brand new baby. She well knew how much _time_ it required and time had always proven to be a precious commodity where it pertained to her and Aang. They never seemed to have enough of it, especially when it concerned their relationship.

The truth of the matter was, her husband was still as busy as ever. The move to Republic City would rectify the problem they had with proximity but it wouldn't lessen Aang's duties as Avatar. Katara already knew that from experience. Even on those occasions when she and the kids had traveled with Aang and stayed at Air Temple Island while he worked, Aang had often come home late into the evening, too exhausted for anything more than goodnight kisses for the kids and sleepy cuddles for her.

However, Katara couldn't deny that it had been nice to have him come home to her every night, even if sometimes he would go straight to bed. She liked having dinner as a family. She liked falling asleep in his arms and waking up with him beside her. Those times in Republic City hadn't been perfect by any stretch of the imagination but it was leaps and bounds over their current situation.

Intellectually, Katara knew that the move would be a good thing, _should_ be a good thing. Living in Republic City would give her the stability and sense of permanence that she had been craving for eleven years. She could, at last, have everything she said she always wanted. Emotionally, however, Katara felt torn and bereft at the thought of leaving her beloved air temple behind.

And it was _hers_ too. No, she had not been raised there. Her history and heritage weren't tied up in the place as it was for her husband. The air temple didn't serve as one of her last remaining ties to her extinct people. _But_, it was the place where she had learned what it meant to be a wife. She had given birth to both her children there. She had fought and laughed and loved there. She come into her womanhood there. The thought of leaving it behind was nothing less than devastating for her and she mourned with the sense of loss that accompanied it.

What made matters worse was that Katara suspected that, if she felt so strongly about leaving the Southern Air Temple, Aang must have felt absolutely gutted over it, not that she would have ever guessed that by the way he acted. Whenever he spoke of the move he had been nothing less than optimistic, enthused and jovial. In Katara's estimation, he never seemed to have a reflective moment or even pause long enough to contemplate exactly what he was leaving behind. And all of that would be fine if Katara believed that was the extent of his feelings. But she didn't believe it.

She knew Aang better than that. She could read his heart, even with the things he left unspoken and, because she could, Katara knew that underneath all the cheerfulness and positivity Aang was likely in incredible pain. But he couldn't talk to her about that any more than she could talk to him about the baby. The realization left Katara feeling frustrated and helpless.

Still, she knew he wasn't being deliberately obtuse. Aang was doing his best to keep up a cheery façade for his family's sake. After all, news of the move hadn't gone over well for everyone. Kya, for instance, had thrown a good and proper fit and Katara vividly recalled how stunned and dismayed Aang had looked in the aftermath of their daughter's epic blowup.

_"__I knew she wouldn't be happy but I…I didn't expect that."_

_"__Give her time, Aang. This is the only home she's ever known. She's overwhelmed by so many changes."_

_"__Do you think she hates me?"_

_"__Right now __**she**__ thinks she hates you. But no. She doesn't hate you, Aang."_

_"__I'm doing this for __**her,**__ Katara, for all of us really. I hope she realizes that one day."_

_"__She will, Aang. It might take some time but, she will."_

Katara had been able to speak with absolute confidence about that because she had gone through a similar emotional transition herself. When she and Aang had first discussed relocating permanently to Republic City it had seemed to her to be in abstract terms or, at least, something that had still been far off into the future. She never imagined that a little over a week later she would be scrambling to prepare herself, her children and her grandmother for a life-altering move.

In the beginning, she hadn't been thrilled, especially because to her it seemed that Aang had simply made the pronouncement and then promptly left for business afterwards. She had resented him at first. But gradually she came to understand that he was truly doing what he thought would be best for their family and, if he was willing to leave behind his boyhood home for their family's personal interest then who was she to give him a hard time about that? Eventually and with much reasoning, Katara was able to help her obstinate daughter come to that conclusion as well.

Bumi, on the other hand, was an altogether different story. He didn't have the sentimental attachment to the air temple that she, Aang and Kya did. He was only four years old and the entire world, in his childish estimation, was merely waiting for his exploration. He shared his father's enthusiasm for new adventures and most certainly had the heart and disposition of a nomad. The idea of moving to the city had left him genuinely excited and he had been jabbering on about it nonstop ever since.

Katara lamented that fact, not because she begrudged his excitement but because he would never form the deep emotional ties to the Southern Air Temple that she, his father and sister had. Neither would this new baby, she supposed. Certainly they would visit and take family holidays when they were able but it would never be the same as living there had been. They would never again refer to it as home.

With those melancholy thoughts still swirling about in her mind, Katara stood and prepared to make the long descent back down to the base of the temple. More than a few hours had passed since she began her "inspection" and she was sure that her children were likely driving her grandmother crazy and combing the grounds by now in search of her. Her suspicions were confirmed when she finally made it down to the courtyard and Kya and Bumi immediately came running to meet her. Their aged great grandmother trudged determinedly behind them.

"Mom, where have you been?" Kya demanded, "We were starting to worry!"

"We've been looking all over," Bumi added, "Were you playing hide and seek?"

As Katara opened her mouth to apologize and explain how time had gotten away from her, she was suddenly inundated with an onslaught of memories as she looked down into their faces. She recalled the difficulty of pinning Bumi down for a bath because he was so masterful at wriggling out of unwelcome situations and how, even as recently as this past week, she would often have to chase him throughout the temple breathing threat and retribution while he ran about buck naked. She thought about the time she found Kya coating her face with mud because she "wanted to be a Kyoshi Warrior like Aunt Suki."

She recalled the laughter that would echo throughout the temple as Bumi and his cousins roughhoused and chased each other back and forth while her father marveled over how he, Anik and Tikaani looked more like brothers than cousins. She chuckled inwardly when she remembered the time Aang had burped Kya after a feeding and had been treated to his first experience with baby vomit. Needless to say, Aang hadn't been at all thrilled. His repulsed reaction that followed had been priceless. Sokka had taken supreme delight in telling him, "Don't worry, buddy. It will wash out."

Then there was the time when Kya was seven that she had taken it into her brain to fully adopt the customs of an air nomad and, as a result, had taken it upon herself to shave her head. The results had been a disastrous, lopsided mohawk. Aang, of course, had laughed himself into a fit of coughing over how adorably tragic Kya looked but Katara had been horrified to see her daughter's thick, beautiful hair in ruins. It had taken hours for her to shape it into something acceptable and six full months before it finally grew back completely.

So many beautiful memories, life altering experiences really and she was faced with the prospect of saying goodbye to every one of them. And suddenly, Katara didn't know if she could. She knelt down to pull both of her children close and hugged them hard, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall.

"Mom?" Kya questioned tentatively as she tried not to wiggle in her mother's death grip, "What are you doing?"

"I just love you both so much," Katara sniffled.

"Can you love us less?" Bumi squeaked, "I can't feel my legs anymore."

Thankfully, Kanna stepped forward to aid in the children's extrication from their mother's hold. "Katara, let the babies go," she urged with a chuckle, "They're coming with us. Remember?"

"I know," Katara said, quickly composing herself before rising to her feet, "I'm feeling sentimental. That's all."

Kanna fixed her with a knowing smile. "I'm sure you are."

While Katara hadn't made a formal announcement to anyone regarding her pregnancy, she was well aware that her grandmother already knew without her having to say a word. So did Jinpa. Both women had the inexplicable ability to read her like a book but, thankfully, neither of them had pressed her about the subject. They both seemed content to wait on Katara to broach it herself. Katara appreciated their patience as well as their discretion and she tried to convey that gratitude in the loving look she gave her grandmother right then.

"I'm really glad you're coming with us, Gran. You have no idea how much it means to me."

"Well, you didn't give me much choice in the matter." She tipped an affectionate glance down at Bumi and Kya. "I don't think I could be separated from these two for very long…even if they do drive me crazy."

"I don't remember you being this sentimental about me and Sokka."

"I didn't like you two as much as I like them," Kanna teased with her gruff old woman's humor, "Besides, you need me. Kya and Bumi would be constantly running the show if I weren't here to provide some order."

"She's right," Kya mumbled in aside, "She's super bossy, Mom."

"I guess that means you've met your match, huh?" Katara laughed.

Kya was deep into a rant about how that was grossly untrue when Jinpa arrived. After a brief reunion with Kanna and the children, Kanna shuffled the children off for the temple, sensing that Katara might want a moment of privacy with the older woman. The two regarded one another in emotional silence when they were alone, both reluctant to say the goodbyes that they knew were inevitable.

"You've been like a mother to me all these years, Jinpa," Katara said finally, her words hoarse with unshed tears, "I will never be able to express to you how grateful I am that you came into our lives."

"The pleasure was mine," Jinpa whispered with equal emotion, "Even before I met you and Aang, I always felt like you were my family. I love you both very much. I'm going to miss you."

Katara pitched herself forward to embrace Jinpa tightly, her tears spilling over. "What am I going to do without you?"

"You are going to embark on this next part of your journey with an open heart and an open mind, Katara," Jinpa predicted, "And you're going to be happy. I know it."

"I don't want to leave this place," Katara confessed when they parted. "I thought I could. I thought I was ready but I'm not. This is my home, Jinpa."

"It will always _be_ your home."

"No. That's not true. It will be Anil's school from this point forward, a learning center for people who want to live according to the air nomad tradition. This place belongs to him and the acolyte students now."

"Do you wish that Aang hadn't given him permission to do that?" Jinpa worried, "Are you having second thoughts?"

"Not at all!" Katara exclaimed, "I don't want this place to become an abandoned shell after we leave. I want it to be filled with people and laughter because that's the way it was always meant to be. I want your people and Aang's people to flourish here again."

"I want that as well."

"I only wish it didn't hurt so much," Katara murmured.

Jinpa studied Katara for a quiet moment, noting the dark circles beneath the younger woman's eyes and the weary stoop of her shoulders. "You look tired, Katara."

"Yes, well, growing a baby will do that to you," she grunted on a laugh.

Her response provoked an approving smile from Jinpa. "I was wondering when you'd finally admit it out loud," she said, "I was beginning to think that you hadn't figured it out."

"Oh, I figured it out but I don't know how I feel about it yet."

"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Jinpa asked wryly.

"Yes. More than a decade ago, I believe," Katara replied with an ironic snort, "I guess the more things change the more they stay the same."

"You're not that same uncertain girl so fearful of change anymore, Katara."

"Sometimes it feels like I am."

"Because you always want to control everything," Jinpa replied with an intuitive smile, "There are times when you must accept that some things are out of your control. You just have to go with it."

"Now you sound like Aang."

"Maybe it's the air nomad in me."

"Is that the reason why he's seems so unaffected about this entire move?" Katara wondered sullenly, "It's like he doesn't care that we're leaving this place behind at all."

"I think you know he's not unaffected by it, Katara. He loves this place but he loves you and the children even more. If he has to choose between the air temple and you, Aang will always choose you."

Because she knew she couldn't refute that statement, Katara's irritation died as quickly as it had flared. "I know that," she confessed miserably but somehow the acknowledgment made her feel worse instead of better.

"How much longer until he arrives?" Jinpa asked when Katara fell into a pensive silence.

"Two days, give or take. It depends on how fast Appa flies. We'll spend another week taking care of some last minute details and then after that…everything changes."

"Change can be a good thing, Katara." She studied her friend's dejected profile with a contemplative smile. "Have you told Aang about the baby yet?"

"Getting there," Katara hedged guiltily.

"Oh Katara, really? This again?" Jinpa chided her, "What are you waiting for?"

"It's not like we've had a lot of time to discuss it, Jinpa," Katara argued, "We've both been busy and distracted. I haven't even thought about how I'm going to break the news to him."

"Two words: I'm pregnant. Simple."

"Two words: Bad timing. Not simple," Katara countered dryly.

"That's what you said about Kya and you were wrong. Remember?"

"That was also a long time ago when Aang and I were young and idealistic and too stupid for our own goods," Katara grumbled, "We both agreed that now is _not_ the time to be having another baby. And now look!" Katara threw up her hands in exasperation. "We're having another baby!"

"You think he's going to be disappointed?" Jinpa surmised softly.

"I think he's convinced himself that our lives are going to be a certain way when we move to Republic City and I'm a little reluctant to disabuse him of that notion," Katara muttered, "I've always hated being the one to shatter his illusions."

"A baby isn't going to 'shatter his illusions,' Katara. I doubt he'll be anything less than thrilled."

"If you say so."

"I _do_ say so. And so this is my last piece of advice to you before we say goodbye. Tell him, Katara. The sooner the better."

She tried. Katara _sincerely_ tried. Again and again over the course of that following week. But each time she attempted to corner Aang to give him the news, one of the children was vying for his attention, Anil had a question or he was corresponding with Sokka and Zuko via messenger hawk regarding urgent Republic City business. She barely had a moment alone with him and, by the evening, she was often asleep before he came to bed.

To make matters worse, Aang would frequently make comments about how he was looking forward to it being "only the two of them again" once the children were enrolled in school and how he was sure that they could find something to occupy her grandmother's time while they occupied themselves with each other. The words were innocent and punctuated with sincerity but they filled Katara with guilt. He was like a little boy anticipating a long awaited gift, so jubilant and filled with anticipation that it physically pained Katara. And she couldn't find the words. The more time that passed, the harder it became.

She was starting to think that she should just take Jinpa's advice and blurt it out but that seemed…ill-advised and immature. Katara also couldn't help but note how the indecision she felt was very much akin to the internal agony she had struggled through when she had been pregnant with Kya. She hadn't known how to tell Aang then either. In a way, this newest pregnancy had brought them both full circle.

Katara might have laughed over the realization if she weren't so conflicted. In the end, she knew that she had to tell him. Eventually, the evidence would speak for itself but…most importantly, she _wanted_ him to know. No matter what, however, Katara was determined to approach the matter with the skill and forethought befitting her years of experience as a wife, mother and woman of thirty two years. She most certainly _would not_ blurt it out like a compulsive child. Instead, she would ease Aang into the news gently and follow the reveal with a frank discussion about their future.

_When they reached Air Temple Island_, Katara decided in her heart. Once they were settled into their new home _then_ she would tell Aang that he was going to be father yet again. In the meantime, she tried to prepare herself emotionally for the day when she would officially say goodbye to the Southern Air Temple and all the nostalgic memories it contained.

That day came far too soon for Katara. Minutes before they were scheduled to leave, she found herself standing in the middle of their bedroom, surveying how barren and bereft it appeared and reliving the countless memories she had made there. She looked at their bed, which was now stripped bare and little more than a pallet stuffed with shed bison fur supported by a wooden platform, where she had labored through childbirth twice, where she had snuggled with her children late into the night, where she had made love with Aang countless times and where they had conceived the child currently growing inside of her.

Their window, which overlooked the sprawling grounds of the temple and provided an obstructed view of the sunrise, had been Aang's personal perch over the years. She would often wake in the early morning hours to find him sitting there, bathed in the glow of the rising sun, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He had climbed through that window and into their bed in the dead of night when he arrived home after a lengthy separation and jumped out of it whenever the fancy struck him and he didn't want to bother with the stairs. He had given both their children an unrestricted view of their heritage from that window and Katara would never forget how witnessing those tender moments had made her heart ache.

She looked over to the wall, which was gouged with deep nicks in the stone, markings she and Aang had used to chart the trajectory of Kya and Bumi's ever changing heights. Katara marveled over how much they had grown in such a short span of time. She suspected that they both would be tall like their father before them and the thought made her smile. Katara was still smiling and crying a little too when Aang poked his head through the door.

"There you are," he said as he stepped inside, "Kanna and the kids are already on Appa. We're waiting for you."

Katara quickly brushed away her tears and forced her wobbly smile to remain in place but Aang wasn't fooled by her happy veneer. "I'm okay," she told him quickly when she saw his worried expression, "I was doing one last walkthrough. That's all."

Clearly unconvinced by her explanation, Aang shook his head sadly and drew her into his arms. "I feel it too, you know," he whispered against her temple, "Leaving this place behind isn't easy for me. It hurts more than I can put into words but I keep telling myself that this is what we need and it's worth it. It _has_ to be worth it, Katara."

"But our entire life is here," she wept against his shoulder, "Nearly every event that's ever held any significance to me has happened within these walls. I don't want to leave here, Aang."

"I don't want to leave either," he admitted, his words thick with emotion, "I hate that we have to. But it won't be forever. We'll come back to visit. We'll come back as often as we can."

"It won't be the same."

"I know," Aang whispered, "But we'll make new memories where we go next. Good ones. _Better_ ones."

"I like the ones we made here," she muttered in a suffocated tone.

Aang framed her face in his hands and kissed her gently. "So do I but, this isn't the end for us. This is only a continuation on this long journey we're on together, Katara. We should think of it as an adventure. And we've never shied away from those before, have we?"

The corner of Katara's mouth tilted into a half smile despite the sadness pervading her heart. "No, we haven't."

"So let's do this together," he urged with a trembling smile, "Me and you. Just like we've always done. Can we try...please?"

"Okay, Aang," Katara consented with a nod and a fortifying breath, "I think I'm ready now."

She took hold of Aang's hand and, after privately saying goodbye to all of those memories in her heart, Katara squared her shoulders and followed Aang out, shutting the door on this last chapter of her life as she bravely prepared herself to begin the next one.

**~End~**

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**A/N: Welp, this one is complete. Thank you all for reading and thank you especially to A.D. Curtis, Ashley Barbosa and kara for your regular reviews. They were more appreciated than you know.**


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